Eternal
by I.Tea88
Summary: "To remind me of how eternal one small choice can be..." Who was Jev "Patch" Cipriano before he fell? How did he create a new life? What did he leave behind? How did he evolve into the man that fell for Nora Grey? Credit for the (dreamy) characters go to Becca Fitzpatrick!
1. Prologue

**Alrighty! Fresh off the press! So, if you are unfamiliar with me, my name is , I'm a bio major from America, and it's nice to meet you! After writing my last story, Insanity, I was thinking about Patch's back story. What would the young, inexperienced, innocent Patch have been like? This one may not be as long; it also might be a two-parter. I haven't decided yet. **

_Prologue_

I was in bed, and I was lying in Nora's arms. I have to say; it's the best _feeling _I've experienced so far. I can feel how warm she is. I don't think I'll ever get over being able to touch her. It might not seem like much, but that's because if you've lived with touch for so long, you can never appreciate it. Even feeling through Chauncey never felt right, because it was someone else's hands.

I rarely felt a need to sleep; if I did, I had to be genuinely exhausted, or bored. However, I'll do it every single night, just to experience this. Nora likes it, so I like it. Yawning, Nora moved over in her sleep, removing her arms. I wasn't having that, so I just wrapped mine around her. It makes her jubilant, that I can feel her. She rarely mentioned it, but I know that she felt like something was missing from our physical relationship beforehand. If only she knew how much it bothered me when I saw the…not disappointment, but the sadness in her eyes when she thought about it. The difference was stunning.

I had everything that I could ever want. At least, the Patch that had entered Nora's life had everything that he could ever want. Nora had changed my life. Before her, I wasn't exactly the most… savory character. It was a thought that kept me up at night sometimes, when I was counting my three blessings (Nora, eternal life, the ability to feel). I would sift through every memory of mine, and wonder what I'd done to deserve the Angel lying in my arms. Not much, up until meeting her. It had all been worth it; the eternity of waiting, for this. For her.

If my life could be painted on a long canvas, it would have a chaotic impression. The Patch of _my beginning _would show on the canvas as pure white, maybe with a dashes of yellow and blue. Happiness, order. The Patch of _then _would have a cacophony of blood red and black. Rage, confusion. The Patch of _now…he _would have all of that mess, painted over with white to give a greyish color. Nora _Grey, _indeed. My past wouldn't change, but my future was certainly being given a new chance.

I remembered a time that I'd been different. As an Archangel, I'd been young, innocent, impulsive, and naïve. I'd genuinely thought that things were simple; that I could make a decision and it not change a thing around me. I'd been so confused; so stubborn.

I believed, for so long, that I'd lost it all. That things would never get any better; that I could never take back anything that I'd done. I've experienced lots of pain in my life; it's a testament to my love for Nora that I can't say I regret my decision anymore. Before that, however, it was all that haunted me. A terrible decision; a decision that quickly changed me from a cherubic, innocent angel, to the cold, calculating man that I am today.

I can remember it all so clearly. I remember my friends. I remember my temptation.

I remember the day they tore my wings out.


	2. Chapter 1

**So, I made my own characters. Ezra and Nehemiah; I was going through my Bible stories and I just really liked those names so there we go! As for baby Jev (as I think of him) he's so...lol not Patch. Enjoy!**

Chapter One

I was lying languidly on the edge of the fountain, looking into the water. I thought about the Archangels' meeting I'd just been at. All they ever spoke about was "humanity this," and "humanity that", and about how they were just so _above them. _It probably came from the jadedness that came from being in power for an eternity. I, myself, was pretty young in comparison, only 2 millennia old, which is why I still found humanity pretty interesting. Angels are "born" into their positions; I was born an Archangel; the law makers and judges. It was pretty strange; while I loved the power and was pretty talented when it came to my abilities, I was never like the other stoic, ancient beings. I was curious, hard-headed, and I hate to admit it, but oh-so very naïve.

I looked up from the water as I sensed others approaching. The others in question were my best friends, Ezra and Nehemiah. The two of them were day and night, yet I'd never met two friends that got along so well. Ezra had pale skin, and wavy brown hair. He was clever, brash, and fun, and hardly looked or acted the Avenging Angel he was supposed to be. Nehemiah had caramel brown skin, and cropped black curls. He was an Angel of Death, and he was quieter, wiser, but could easily crack a joke.

"What's going on, Jev?" Ezra asked me, sitting down on the grass. "Dozing into the fountain, again?"

Nehemiah laughed. "If he doesn't want to talk, it's cool." I smiled at them.

"It's fine. I'm just…watching." Ezra looked over into the fountain, where the image I'd been looking at was still playing out.

"Humanity, again? Boring!" he said, rolling his eyes.

"Why do you find them so interesting, Jev?" Nehemiah asked me, genuinely interested.

"They just…do things that make me wonder. God gave them free will and all, and I just like to see how they use it." I said, peering into the water. Ezra laughed at my words.

"A waste in my mind, but what the Big Guy says, goes." He placed his hands behind his head.

Nehemiah looked closer. He was always more observant than Ezra. We watched as the beautiful, voluptuous strawberry blonde danced. I didn't know it, but my eyes had grown in desire. Ezra groaned from the ground.

"You've missed our singing rehearsals, for _this? _We're singing at the celebrations, tonight! You are going to ruin _everything!" _Nehemiah rolled his eyes and grasped my shoulder.

"What Ezra is _trying _to say is that we need you." He seemed concerned. I nodded, clearing my head. I wiped the image from the water.

"You're right. I'll catch up with you guys." Satisfied, Ezra got up and walked away. Nehemiah stayed with me, walking slowly.

"Jev…" He'd seen the woman in the water.

"Nehemiah, don't worry." He didn't stop looking at me. I continued. "Okay, so it's just that, well…Sometimes I question the Archangels. _Why _are they so jaded? It's like they're consistently negative about them! I mean, what's so bad about free will, and…and love and all that?" I finished passionately. I hadn't had full clearance to see the humans (because I was so "young") and so what things I did see were reflected in the pool of the fountain. Nehemiah thought about my question.

"Nothing, really. We have love. But we also have a duty. That is why we exist. You've only seen little bits and pieces, and I believe what you are seeing is what you want to see; that is, because you are looking for happiness, you're seeing happiness. I've seen some pretty grisly things, being an Angel of Death, and I must say that I can see just a part of their…jaded reasoning." I shook my head; it wasn't the answer I was looking for.

"Never mind, man. Don't worry." Nehemiah nodded, and didn't pry anymore. Instead, he smiled.

"We have music to make; Ezra might explode if we don't start soon."

"Jev!" We both turned. My girlfriend, Dabria, was running towards me. I opened my arms, and she fell into them. She kissed me, full on the lips.

"What are you writing today? Is it a song for me?" she asked, breathless.

"But of course." I answered, smiling back. She smiled, grabbing my hand. Something had been off lately. I knew that I loved Dabria, but…I erased the thought from my mind. Removing my hand gently, I turned to her.

"Hey, I'll see you later tonight, okay?" I turned away quickly, but not fast enough, because I still saw Dabria's face fall. Nehemiah and I began to walk faster.

"Trouble in paradise?" he asked me. Again, he always saw too much. He easily made the connection between the woman and the water, and my relationship.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I'll get it together." It was silent for a moment, and then I smiled mischievously.

"Race you to the gazebo!" I shouted, and took off. Looking behind me, Nehemiah had grinned and took off after me.


	3. Chapter 2

**I like making up the setting of Heaven, and all their little events. It's just...cute. In response to my three reviewers, Yes, there will be Rixon, but be patient! Trust me, I've got my ideas! I'll be honest; a lot of the first three chapters are going to be set-up for the rest; be patient loves, it will pick up! **

Chapter Two

It was dark above the clouds, and the celebration was in full swing. However, I was back at the fountain, alone, where I could quietly resume my watching. I waved at the ripples, until I saw the beautiful woman again. She was praying over her bed. When she was done, she blew the candles out and went to sleep. Simple actions, and yet she made them look so graceful.

The celebration had gone well, as far as I could tell. There was this whole ceremony where the Angels would come out in their ranks. The Archangels wore royal purple on top of their official white togas; the Avenging Angels wore red; Angels of Death, grey, and so forth. After that whole boring process, we had to watch the Originals come out. Gabriel and Michael were the official representatives of God (He rarely came to the events), and would speak to us all about something or another (I didn't listen). Finally, it was time for the different groups of Angels to sing. Ezra, Nehemiah and I were the lead singers _("and by far, the best singers ever", _according to Ezra)and so we led the choir behind us. There were the official songs that we had to sing, and then we got to sing a song of our own creation. That song, once it was over, was placed into the music box. Eventually, some lucky humans in the future would be "inspired" and sing the song. The song I had written was indeed for Dabria, and all the female angels swooned over our new sound. Finally, under Nehemiah's watchful eyes, I snuck away.

"Where's he going?" Ezra had murmured.

"To be alone, obviously." Nehemiah had answered. They had my back, crazy as they thought I was being.

"Festivities too much?" I jumped as a man approached me. He had brown skin, and his thick hair was in a tie behind his head.

"Oh no, they were fine." I was wary; I'd never seen this man before, and he could go tell the Archangels anything I'd said. He laughed at my tone.

"Well, I think they get more and more boring every time they do them. Except for your singing; I like the new sound you had for your song. It made those stuffy Archangels turn up their noses. It was something different; I can appreciate it." He looked at the food in his hand. "I can also appreciate the food."

"Can you really? Appreciate our song, I mean?" I asked, intrigued by his willingness to share an opinion.

"Sure! It had a futuristic sound to it. It'll make women swoon next time humanity hears it."

"Futuristic, sir?" This guy was really…odd. He laughed again.

"Well, you wouldn't know." He peered into the pool at the image I hadn't erased. "Hm. 1500s. I like this time; lots of fun stuff." Disregarding my wonder at how he knew what time I was watching, I grew passionate at his words. I began to tell him about the things I'd seen. He listened, but it seemed like he was staring right through me while I spoke. Most Archangels, or any angels, would have dismissed me by now.

"You're an intriguing Archangel, Jev Cipriano." I raised my eyebrows. "I read you. Sorry; it happens unconsciously at this point."

"What do you see?" I asked, curious. He looked at me, then at the fountain.

"You will have an interesting story. Hard, yes; long, extremely so. But worth it. A good story!" I looked at him oddly. The man was weird, to put it plainly. Wise, but not jaded. Timeless. As I was thinking, he began walking away.

"Hey, wait!" I ran up and stopped him. "What do you mean? Tell me, please!" I asked him, greedily.

"No." he answered, smiling, and continued his jovial stride. I was thrown off by his simple answer.

"Just one thing!" I begged. He sighed, looking at my hopeful, begging face. He placed his hand on my forehead. "She will be waiting for you, at the end." I was stunned by this vague, noncommittal answer.

"That's all I got for you, child. I really should get back; I'll be missed. You should, too; plenty of "nectar and ambrosia" for everybody. Enjoy yourself; get your head out of the clouds." He said, smiling. Bemused, I watched him walk off.

"Jesus, but you're odd." It was a phrase I'd heard through my observing humans, and it slipped from my mouth. I held my hand over my mouth, worried I'd blasphemed. He looked back from me, as if called, but shrugged his shoulders, and kept walking.

"I hope you were pleasant," Ezra said, shocking me.

"Why?" I asked, confused. Nehemiah laughed.

"He certainly is…unassuming, isn't he? It's rare that he's not surrounded by Archangels when he's not helping his Father catalog the universe. He must have wanted some quiet too."

As the pieces clicked into place for me, I finally noticed the whip scars on the man's back, and the small hole in his hands.

**Oh, and the song they sung was "Girlfriend" by N'Sync. I always thought that Baby Jev (I'm still calling him that!) would sound like a young Justin Timberlake. Let me have my dreams!**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

I was blushing extremely hard as Ezra teased me, once again, about my lapse in attention.

"Look, Ezra, I _will _hurt you." I threatened. He just laughed harder; I'd never been much of a fighter.

"How could you _not _notice?" he asked, rhetorically.

"He was busy watching that girl." Nehemiah answered seriously. We were sitting in a tree; Nehemiah in a branch higher than mine, and Ezra on the ground.

"I know I keep saying this, but Jev, I'm worried. You know this; you know I'm not normally so serious-"

"Yeah, you've been a real killjoy as of late." Ezra interjected. Nehemiah ignored him.

"-but I sense something in your future. I don't want you to get hurt, man. Just…tread lightly." He finished. I'd heard enough of Nehemiah's warnings, so my answer was slightly arrogant.

"Nehemiah, lighten up. It's not this deep." Ignoring his grimace, I moved on to the question that had been on my mind for a while. Jesus had said that "she'd be waiting for me"; surely it was the woman in the fountain. I just _knew _that I was supposed to meet her!

"How do you feel about being human?" There was silence for a moment as they absorbed my question.

"_Being _human? I'd rather not. I find them quite brutish." Ezra said.

"I prefer my spot here, yes." Nehemiah answered. I turned to Ezra.

"You're a bit biased, considering you're an Avenging Angel. Your entire job is to punish. It's like you're taught to see the bad!" I'd always thought this, but I'd never let it slip. Under his jovial exterior, Ezra could be cold and merciless, and he was very sensitive about his training. Before he could get angry, I turned to Nehemiah.

"And you; you deal with the dead all of the time, but if you could just see them living!"

"Huh. Mr. High-and-Mighty Archangel, back again." Ezra commented.

"I want to watch them closely! I just want to see…" I looked around me, but spoke in mind speak anyway. _What it's like to be human._

They stiffened.

_It's forbidden, Jev! You must not attempt it. _Nehemiah thought.

Ezra sat up, gazing at me. _It's no light offense, cavorting with humans. It's not like sneaking out of a class, Jev. _

_I need to know. I don't plan on speaking to any of them, or mating. I just want to watch. Archangels go all of the time. _

_Yes, unseen! _Nehemiah fired back. _Those who are seen are on a divine mission! Not to play! _

Being foolish, I refused to see reason. _I won't get caught! If no one sees me…_ I saw Nehemiah shaking his head, and I got angry. _You're on Earth all of the time! _

_It's my __**job, **__Jev, not some childish whim! It's what I am preordained to do! _Nehemiah rarely rose his voice, thought or otherwise, and so I knew that I had bothered him. He fell from the tree, and began to walk away.

"I can't take this! There are too many bad feelings, and that's saying a lot coming from an Angel of Death. Jev, see reason!" And with that, he flew away. Ezra, who had been unusually quiet, stood.

"You know he's sensitive. I'll go get him." He murmured. "Look. You can't do this. Read the Book of Enoch, Jev. In detail, this time. And don't tell him I said this, but Nehemiah is rarely wrong when he has a "feeling" about something." He spread his wings, getting ready to take off. "We love you, man. We're always there for you, but this is too much. You're too smart to consider what that you have in mind a possibility. I'll give you some time to think about it." He took off to go find Nehemiah.

However, I was too self-possessed of the idea. It burned like a fire; I _had _to go see what was below. I _had _to see the girl that was in the fountain. It was my rebelliousness, I suppose, that pushed me. I needed to see what I found for myself. I even needed to prove my friends wrong about me. _Preordained, _ha! What if I didn't want to be preordained? I always questioned everything while in the Archangels' chamber, and I was rarely heeded, or I was called out for being rebellious or impudent. My decisions were rarely considered, although I could easily say I possessed enough power to be relevant. I needed to prove them _all _wrong. I might even decide to stay, and become a human, and then _no one_ could _preordain _me!

I waited until night. With the image of the girl in my mind, pushing me forward, I walked to the cloudfall, where the clouds spilled from heaven and onto the Earth. I lifted from the ground, and plunged through them.

**Tsk...he's so hard-headed. **


	5. Chapter 4

**So, I know that everyone was probably expecting the whole "he fell in love and it was magic" type thing but...I felt like it needed a twist. That sort of thing _always _happens. Besides, the way people allude to it in the books, it can't be something so simple. Anywho, this is what I think happened to him!**

Chapter Four

Landing on the ground, I drew in my wings. Knowing I was a bit conspicuous in a toga, I grabbed a cloak from a nearby home. I'd give it back. Because it was nighttime, there weren't people actively walking around; I suppose I hadn't thought about that when I sneaked out. Walking through the street, I heard lively sounds coming from somewhere. It was a tavern. Making myself invisible, I walked up to the window to peer in. Men and women were singing loudly, and drinking messily. I heard men make bawdy jokes to the women sitting on their laps. Other men were playing cards, and another set was arm wrestling. There was violin music in the background, and people were dancing. It was all so dirty and sweaty…it looked _amazing! _Much more fun than the rigidly set up Celebration. I wanted to walk in, but invisible or not, there was the chance I'd bump into someone, so I regretfully left the window.

I began to walk past the homes, with yards with goats and pigs in them. The animals flocked towards me, wanting to be petted and given food. It was a known fact that, invisible or not, animals could see us walking the Earth; much more observant than the humans. A cat walked up towards me and rubbed its head against my legs. I smiled as I took in my surroundings. It was so…_peaceful. _Not a Heavenly peace, where it was very still and calm, but wind was blowing softly against my face, and the small sounds of life in the background made being on Earth…its own type of divine.

I walked past a home when I heard a slight thumping noise. Curious, I walked up to try to hear more clearly. The noises were groans and sighs; noises of passion. Blushing, I backed away and hurried on. I knew for a fact that I'd never have that experience. Angels didn't need to copulate to procreate, and so there was no need for anything else that came with it. Not to mention, the lack of self-control that came with it; no, that kind of love was specifically for humanity. It was a shame though; I still wondered what it would be like to experience it. I had no real idea of what went into it; I couldn't see Dabria ever wanting to try anyway.

Finally, I found the woman's house. Her guard dog began to bark at me, and wag its tail, and it caused her to come outside. She stared right through me. Even halfway asleep, she was gorgeous. Suddenly, it wasn't _Dabria _I wanted to try this newfound passion with. I had to stop myself; she was human, and I was an Angel. It was forbidden. However, because I wanted to be closer to her, I quickly walked into her home while she had the door open. After not finding anything, she reentered and closed the door. It was a one bedroom home, with an open space for sitting and cooking. She must have been very poor. I was just thinking how _alone _her life must be when a man stumbled in. He wasn't in his right mind, because he began to yell at the poor woman for no reason at all. When she tried to speak calmly to him, he just got louder.

I was horrified. I'd never seen anything like _this _before! The man began to smack the woman, and I was enraged. Before I could stop myself, I flung a metal bucket at his head, to stop him from acting so brutishly. As he hit the floor, she grabbed the bucket and continued to hit him, over and over until he was bloody. I was frozen to the spot, in terror, when she looked up and started at the sight of me.

"Who…" I didn't stay to listen. I took off, knowing an Angel of Death would soon be visiting, and I couldn't be seen.

"Wait!" she called after me, but I wasn't listening. "You have to help me! They'll kill me if they find him here; they'll say it's all my fault!" I stopped running, but my mind was still in turmoil.

_What had I done? _I came down just to watch; just to observe; and instead I was now witness to a murder! She had fought him in self-defense, I think, but who knew if the Archangels would see it that way! I'd never get back into Heaven! How had I messed this night up so badly?

"Please….please just help me move him…that way no one gets into trouble!" she cried, falling onto her knees in front of me. I nodded, still dazed by what had happened, and moved by her actions. I helped her drag him to the nearby river, and watched as she pushed him in. He had a bag in his chest, and I watched as rings fell out of the bag and into the water along with his body.

"Thank you. He would beat me…every night he would beat me. I couldn't take it anymore!" she whispered. She led me by the arm back to her home. I was stumbling along. When we arrived at her shack, she sat me down on the bed. She prepared a rag with warm water, and placed it on my head.

"What's your name?" she asked, peering at me. I was shaking, from the shock, and I couldn't answer her.

"My name is Katharine." Katharine, Beautiful name for a beautiful woman. I nodded. She smiled slightly. "You look positively frightened." _Well I should be! _"Well, you can stay here for the night. You understand that you cannot speak of this?"

I answered before I could stop myself. "I can't stay here. That will look bad….I must go!"

"So, you speak!" she exclaimed.

Something was wrong. One, she was taking everything that happened entirely too calmly. She may not have been at immediate risk of Heaven, but still…she'd killed her own husband! Two, she wasn't acting at all like the woman that I saw in the water. I remembered Nehemiah's words; that I was seeing what I wanted to see. Had I been so wrong?

"_Why are you like this?" _I yelled, staring at her. I was so confused; nothing was as it seemed down here at all. Not speaking, she sat me back down, and began rubbing my hair. It was an _amazing _feeling. My eyes filled with tears, and another part of me filled with desire. I didn't realize until she kissed me that she was trying to seduce me. I stood, throwing her off.

"You…you _harlot, _you…I can't…" I ran. I was fearful of going home, but I had nowhere else to go. As I flew away, I tried to think of where I'd gone wrong. First, the beautiful woman, Katharine, was in fact a snake. Just like the snake that tempted Eve. I hated how stupid I'd been, and I needed to make it right. I never wanted to leave home again, humanity be damned.

As soon as I broke the cloud barrier, I was caught and chained down by the Avenging Angels.

**So? Is Jev's innocence coming through well enough? **


	6. Chapter 5

**Enjoy!**

Chapter Five

By morning, I was chained in front of the Archangels' courtroom. The familiar room arched around me, giving a 360 degree chance to view my public humiliation. Because the Originals rarely attended regular trials, I was to be tried by my "peers". Peers being the bunch of stuffy archangels who silenced me whenever I spoke, and glared at me when I questioned the Word.

"Archangel Jev Cipriano," spoke the head judge. "You are being tried for: leaving Heaven without permission, being an accessory to the murder of a human, and desiring the flesh of a human. How do you plead? Can you defend yourself?" His voice echoed across the chamber. I'd never realized how frightening and isolating it must be to be tried right here. In fact, I didn't recall there ever being a trial like it, at least in my own lifetime.

"Guilty." Sighs and gasps echoed around the room. "It was an accident! I never intended for anything to happen, I swear! I only tried to defend the woman; I helped her because I feared that she might be harmed again after he woke, or that someone else might harm her!"

A voice spoke from another side of the room. "He is only young. I can see that he is shaken, and upset, by what happened."

"Regardless," the head judge. "This woman, Katharine Lowry, she was in fact a _murderer. _From our studies of her, she has killed a husband before, and planned on killing this one as well. By following her down, you literally gave her God's aid in murdering one of his own creations." My eyes widened in shock. _So wrong, _I told myself. She'd been evil; a temptress, and I'd fallen for it.

"I didn't know…I just saw what was happening and I reacted…" I whispered.

"Inexcusable!" Faces turned, to see the known liberal Pepper Friberg stand from his seat. Normally he defended those who were in trouble; _why did he have to pick my case to decide to be harsh? _

"He broke sacred rules, and must be punished!" I was becoming indignant at his words.

"He beat her! Is it not against 'sacred rules' to be cruel to another human?" I shouted.

"It is not our place to interfere with human-" he began. I exploded.

"Then what exactly _is our purpose? _What is all of this for? Why are we supposed to be worshipped, and depended upon, if we are so _powerless?_ Are we so _weak?_" There was silence in the courtroom. I was a mere two seconds from having blasphemed God along with the Archangels, and everyone knew it.

_Jev, what have you done to yourself? _I heard Nehemiah whisper in my mind.

The head judge spoke, cutting off Pepper from responding. "You were reported by an angel who witnessed you leave. She made sure we were aware of your previous behavior as well."

I felt an extreme wave of hatred, and I turned to see Dabria, her nose up in the air, glaring at me.

"Dabria…no…" I murmured.

"You also desired the murderess, as was observed." I looked to see a guilty Ezra and Nehemiah.

_Dabria saw you leave, and when she told on you, she made sure that they knew we were your friends. We were forced to speak. _Nehemiah answered.

As I looked around me, I began to see the way that everything was going to end. The Archangels glared at me; some insulted by the way I'd questioned their authority, and the ones that always hated me sneering in their seats. This was their doing; this public humiliation. They were, I realized, killing two birds with one stone with this trial.

The word "guilty" began to travel around the room.

"Jev Cipriano, you are guilty. You relinquish the title of Archangel. You will be removed from our sight at once." The gavel came down, and I was dragged, cursing and screaming, from the hall. I was taken to a dark room, where I was chained to a rock, and my back lay bare.

_They wouldn't…_I begged silently. I began to struggle, knowing that I couldn't let them do what I thought they were going to do. Two Avenging Angels grabbed my arms, pinning me down to the rock.

"Pull out his wings, Ezra." One commanded. I froze for a moment, and began to struggle even harder.

"Ezra! Ezra, _don't do this! Don't let them do this to me!" _I knew it was supposed to be insult to injury; that one of my own best friends would have to deal this blow.

_Why couldn't you have just listened to Nehemiah? _He whispered tearfully. _I'm so sorry, Jev…_

I felt his boot in my back, and it felt like they were pouring hot tar onto my skin as he pulled my wings out, one and then the other. I collapsed in shock, and they unchained and dragged me away. I saw Ezra drop to his knees, letting go of my wings.

I was barely struggling when Nehemiah ran to me.

"Stay back, Angel of Death," one warned. Ignoring them, quick as lightning, he clipped my Archangel's chain around my neck. One of the soldiers kicked him in the stomach, away from me. Holding his stomach, he stared straight at me.

_They made us talk, Jev! Forgive us, please! That necklace is yours; it rightfully belongs around your neck, regardless of how the other Archangels feel! _

I could barely give him back a whisper. _It isn't…your fault…_

Finally, I was lifted by my arms. In a quick, silent motion, they hauled me off of Heaven's edge, and I fell towards the Earth.

* * *

><p>I opened my eyes. I couldn't move my body; everything felt heavy. All I could remember was screaming every second on the way down, and blacking out the moment I hit the ground. I was in an open field, proven by the grass swaying around me. My first emotion was this gnawing, empty feeling; as if I was hungry, and wasn't where I was supposed to be. I tried to lift myself off of the ground, but I couldn't do it. My arms weren't moving. Then I saw the horrible truth: my arms <em>were <em>moving. I couldn't feel them. I realized that I _couldn't feel anything. _Not my body, not the wind, not the ground…_nothing. _Heartbroken, I let out a silent scream. Miserable, and more pissed off than I'd ever been in my existence, I dragged myself across the field towards the sounds of water. It was a hard, eerie experience; I could sense everything around me, enough to know where things were and how to hold them, but I didn't know if I was touching something until I stared right at it. Eventually, I landed at a river. I tried to touch the water, but it didn't matter. I was isolated from the world around me.

Something silver flashed by me, and landed on the gravel where I lay. I began to reach for it, and it was a frustrating task because I never knew if I was holding it until I opened my hand. After a few tries, I was able to see what it was. It was a simple silver ring. In fact, it was one of the rings that Katharine Lowry's husband had dropped when he went into the river. The phrase "what goes around, comes around" had never been so real to me until that moment. My choices had come full circle. A silly, impulsive, _stupid _choice, a choice I'd never had the right to make, led to this half existence. I couldn't take it back; I'd be forever stuck without the ability to feel, or the chance to go home.

I was struck with an emotion that I'd never felt before. _Hate _ran through my veins, choking me with anger. I hated so many things. I hated the Archangels for humiliating me, taking my wings, and leaving me without a home. I hated Dabria for opening her damned mouth. For a moment, I even hated my friends for talking. Then I realized that they'd _tried _to help me, but I didn't listen. They'd respected my right to choose, even when they _knew _I might choose wrong. It only made me hate _myself _even more. I was forced to live with myself, live with knowing that I'd had everything, and I'd given it all up just for love. No, not love, not for that witch, but to prove a point to myself, and to the Archangels.

I then felt a huge sense of loneliness. I was now dependent upon myself; I needed to learn how to survive. And after I learned how to survive, I needed to quench this hatred in myself. I needed _revenge. _I also sensed that I needed a body. I vaguely remembered the Book of Enoch; something about _Nephilim _and immortality. With this new motivation, I was able to push myself off of the ground. So, my new goals were a body, money, and a place to live. I was determined to get these things for myself; I refused to let the Archangels think that they'd defeated me.

Walking, I eventually found a road, and then a sign.

_Loire Valley_

_Chateau de Langeais_

I realized that this would be where that woman; no, that _snake_ would have lived. She owed me a favor; she owed me _more _than a favor. Considering I had all eternity to look for what I needed, I decided to start there, and I began to stumble down the road.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

A month or so later, I sat in the same tavern I'd wanted so badly to be a part of. I was watching, _waiting. _While I did, I thought about the lucky circumstances (and my own work) that had gotten me to where I was.

I'd struggled to get back to the town, but luckily an old couple had passed me on the road in their cart. Using my power, I'd stared the woman in the face and begged her to take me in. She quickly agreed. Looking at my toga with obvious confusion, they gave me some peasant trousers, and a shirt to wear. I had taken a bit of a shine to them; they embodied those kind, warm traits that I'd been searching for when I'd come to Earth. The old woman, Nina, believed that I was terribly sick; I was struggling to move, and I wasn't keeping down food. The reality was that because I couldn't taste or feel the food in my mouth, I didn't know when to swallow it, and so I'd end up choking on it. She sat with me, patiently, until I'd taught myself how to time each chew enough that I wouldn't choke anymore. It took time, and a lot of my pride; I'll never forget it. Because I was an Archangel, language came naturally, and so I was able to converse with them quickly. Once I was healed, I'd work for them, plowing and whatever it was that they needed done. It was harvesting time, so in their minds, I'd been _envoyé du ciel, _sent from Heaven. The irony stunned me when Francis, the old farmer, said that to me. _More like kicked from Heaven, _I thought, but I never said anything. As I began to "feel better", I began to meditate. I needed to learn to sense the environment around me, or I'd spend a long existence bumping into things and struggling to lift myself. I also realized that I had full access to all of my power, which hadn't diminished since I'd fallen. I was no longer held back by the Archangels, and I quickly learned that I was capable of an arsenal of tricks. While I wished I had someone to hone my skills, my own patience would have to do. Soon, I was able to walk, hold and move things (with and without my power), eat, drink; whatever it was I pleased.

Tonight I'd walked in, and made the barkeep give me a drink without paying for it. I was nervous, but needlessly so. He'd handed it right over without a fight. The worst part of sitting in the room was that my body craved to be inside all of theirs; I wanted to feel _so badly, _but I knew that my patience would soon be worth it, and it was. Soon, Katharine Lowry herself showed up at the bar. She joined the women for their dances, and I realized that while she was dancing, she was at her happiest, and that was what I'd gotten to see. Not her scheming and her wiles. Finally, she left, and I followed her to her home. She jumped when I slammed open the door, and pinned her to the wall.

"What do you want?" she cried.

"You owe me, Katharine Lowry. Remember?" I said in a low voice. My voice had been getting slightly deeper when I'd fallen, and I rarely spoke above a whisper anymore, so the effect was frightening.

"Yes…I thought you'd left! I thought you'd ran away…" she trailed off as I placed my hand around her neck. It took everything in me not to snap it right there.

"You will be working for me, Katharine. Everything I say, you do. I have my ways of forcing you, but I think this will all be better if you go along willingly. Understood?"

She smirked at me. "Excuse me? Afraid of you? You are nothing but a _child; _a tall, skinny, impudent child."

I smiled back. Suddenly, she cramped over in pain, burned by the images I placed in her mind.

"Do you feel that, Katharine? That's fire; that same fire will be burning you on the stake if I tell the proper people about how you murdered _both_ of your husbands. Would you rather I do that?" I lifted her head off of the ground; she writhed in agony. I wanted her to suffer, the way I suffered. I wanted her to feel every bit of pain that I felt, having lost it all. But I needed her, so I'd wait, and use her as I saw fit.

"Okay! Okay I'll do whatever you want!" she screamed, staring at me in fear.

"Good." I moved on to business. "Do you work for, or know of anyone of importance?" I asked.

"The Duc de Langeais…I-" she stammered before I interrupted her.

"His mistress, I presume? Was hoping to get out of this place?" I was mocking her, letting her know how lowly she was, but her blush told me my teasing was nothing more than truth. "Get me near him. I want to know more about him." A duc would be the perfect thing to have; once I felt well enough trained, I could simply mindtrick him into giving me his money. It was almost _too _perfect.

"I'm just-!" she began, but I stopped her in her tracks. _Going to do as I say, _I commanded. She nodded.

"Thank you." I smiled beatifically and left.

* * *

><p>I found myself at the Chateau's barn later, at a town gathering. I'd commanded Katharine to find the Duc, and to dance with him. I'd find him, and know who I was looking for. I observed everyone that passed me; again, the urge to rip through the human bodies almost took over me, but I was forcing myself to grow controlled. My senses led me towards the middle of the room, towards the dancing. I watched as Katharine danced with a strangely tall boy; he couldn't have been any older than sixteen. He felt <em>different; <em>the humans around me felt alive, but weak. This boy's body called out to me; it was powerful, a perfect vessel. So, this was the Duc; I heard someone else call him _Chauncey. _I was jubilant.I didn't think that my week, or my life, could get any easier. I'd found a vessel, lifestyle, and money all in one spot. I needed more time to train myself, and become acclimated with the society I was in. I needed to be strong enough to obtain what I needed. As for the boy, who I believed firmly was the _Nephil _I was looking for, I could give a damn about him, or how he'd feel. He'd get over it. I wanted what he had, and I was going to have it.

Smiling to myself, I poured my drink in the grass as I left.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

True to my word, I helped the family that I stayed with. I'd almost convinced myself that they were in fact, my family, and that if I pictured just hard enough, I could lie to myself and say that this was how I'd grown up. But it wasn't real, and with that in mind, I worked tirelessly to prepare myself.

When I wasn't spending hours in the fields, picking and plowing and hauling carts, I was learning how to act human. Because Nina was the only one that could read, I helped her organize her books, and how to use the money that they had. I got to travel to their markets, and learn how to interact with and imitate those people. Soon, I was practically running things on my own.

Katharine's comment about me being "tall and skinny" came back to my mind one day. I was never very strong. I wasn't _weak, _but my body lacked the tone and strength that Ezra had, and he would tease me about it constantly. My muscles were small; more there because I was thin. Frowning, I went to the river. I saw that my body had _toned. _I looked…strong; my muscles had grown, as large as (if not larger than) Ezra's, and were tight. I supposed that hours in the fields lifting and pushing had done this to me. My hair had grown longer, curling over my ears and onto my shoulders. I smiled; I looked like…dare I say it? Like one of the Gods that the Romans loved to sculpt and portray. I almost flinched at the thought of my vanity, comparing myself to a God, but then I smirked. Who would stop me? What could they do; cast me out again? I realized just how nice I looked, and how I could use it, when the girls from around town would stop to see me work.

"Hi, Henry!" they'd purr as they walked past. Henry was my newly given name; I didn't care for it, but I certainly didn't want them to know my real name. Before I knew what I looked like, I would just blush and look at the ground. Now, with my newly found confidence, I would answer back, and they'd giggle. After work one day, I'd followed them around town. I learned exactly what it was that charmed them, and in response, they'd let me sit with them while they gossiped about everything going on. Normally, I'd have found their talking annoying, but they seemed to know everything about the culture that was the Loire Valley. They taught me who lived in what home, and what they did. I listened as they spoke about the Duc, and how "good looking" and "charming" and "wealthy" he was. Getting to know the men around town was harder. At first, they saw me as a threat. I quickly convinced (and by convinced, I mindtricked) them into accepting me, and teaching me what they knew. I even learned how to dance. I refused to learn the songs; I refused to sing anymore. It reminded me too much of what I'd lost.

I stayed out of sight when the Duc and his family came into town. I watched, like a predator, as he would strut down the street, confident, aware that he could have whatever and _whomever _he chose. I watched what his favorite shops were; what he liked to eat, and what he chose to wear. I would follow him back to his home, and silently stalk the activities he participated in. I needed to know these things so that when I became him, there would be no discernible difference. It didn't seem like it would be hard; for all his finery, the boy seemed like a fool.

There was one more thing I needed to learn, before I was fully prepared. The men had laughed when I'd told them, and they "educated" me on the "finer lesson of life". That is; they taught me what and how sex happens. They were brash men; and so the things they taught me were rudimentary. They lacked the charm that I knew the girls' wanted, and so I'd make sure to provide it. I practiced on Katharine. One look at my new body, and my charming words, and the snake had fallen right back into her old tricks.

It was weird; I couldn't feel a thing. I already didn't feel any sort of passion, or love for her, and so the entire act was lacking. I never finished with her; I knew what happened now when a fallen angel and a human procreated, and I certainly didn't want any bastard Nephilim, especially not with her blood. Still, I did it, over and over. The one thing that gave me satisfaction, albeit cheap, was that I knew that the Archangels would be watching, and they'd be disgusted as I violated a sacred law.

When she was finished, I knew that I was ready. I'd easily perfected every human thing that I felt I wanted to know, and I was certainly powerful enough to handle anything else that came my way.


	9. Chapter 8

**So I gotta say; something must be wrong with me, because this was my favorite chapter to write so far. Like...man the dark side is so real in this chapter. I was waiting, because I wanted to build up the suspense with you all, but I was just too excited to wait! So I posted it NOW! **

Chapter Eight

I waited, in the rain, as Katharine finished with the Duc. She had told me about a certain place in the cemetery where she and the Duc liked to be together, and so I'd followed her. I'd decided to wear nothing but my trousers, simply out of the curiosity that was I couldn't get sick, or shiver, or feel the drops. I also wanted to show off. Bored, I began to look at around at the different monuments and statues. I stopped at one of a large angel, with its wings spread wide. I couldn't help it as the pain tore through me at the sight; I jumped onto the monument and began to touch the wings. I imagined how they felt connected to my back; I imagined flying through the clouds.

Soon, I saw Katharine race back to wherever. I wasn't concerned about where she was going; I had one focus tonight, and I refused to fail. Chauncey Langeais came into sight. I stood up from the wings, hopped down, and began to approach him.

He stopped, and began to place his hand towards his sword.

"Who goes there?"

I couldn't help but smirk slightly at his attempt at valor. _So this was how the night was going to go. _

"Do not play games with the Duc de Langeais," he warned me. "I asked for your name. Give it." He stated his title as if it would intimidate me. Besides, I knew his true origins, and he was no mortal Duc's son.

"Duc?" I teased him, leaning against a tree. "Or bastard?" The boy unsheathed his sword.

"Take it back! My father was the Duc de Langeais. I'm the Duc de Langeais now," he shouted. I noticed him blush slightly; probably at his own lack of confidence. Still, I was growing annoyed at his attempts to frighten me, when I obviously held the power in this situation. I shook my head.

"Your father wasn't the old duc." I said, still leaning back. Chauncey grew red at my words.

"And _your _father?" he demanded of me, directing his sword at my face. I wanted to laugh at his "bravery". Foolish boy. "I'll ask once more, who are you?"

Having enough of our little introduction, and craving his oath, I walked up to him and pushed his blade aside as if it were nothing. "One of the Devil's brood," I teased. His eyes widened in fear.

"You're a raving lunatic; get out of my way." He spat.

_Hmm…I don't think so._

I began to force my will onto his, so that he couldn't move, or speak. He was pretty strong; he was able to resist me enough to lift his head. Even better; it would make my experience in his body that much more interesting. I crouched to meet his eyes.

"Listen carefully," I drawled. "I need something from you. I won't leave until I have it. Do you understand?"

Stupidly, he tried to fight me, and even went so far as to spit towards me. Impudent child. I grabbed his hands, and placed the feeling of fire between them. He screamed.

"I need your oath of fealty. Bend on one knee and swear it." Although I was trying to show control, I was growing impatient with him. My body already ached to possess his, and even though Cheshvan had passed, I needed to know that I had him waiting for me when I approached him next.

He was _still _fighting me! Using my power, I began to choke him, and when he tried to resist that, I finally had to force him down onto his knee. He retched onto his side.

"_Swear it." _I commanded. I felt that I was being pleasant, but my hunger for him, and anger at him, was growing even larger. If he didn't swear soon, I'd torture him, brutally, for as long as it took, until he relented.

My patience had worn thin when he swore the oath.

"Lord, I become your man," he hissed. They were words of pure beauty to me. I fought the urge to smile triumphantly. _That wasn't so hard, now was it?_

I lifted him to his feet. "Meet me here at the start of the Hebrew month of Cheshvan. During the two weeks between new and full moons, I'll need your service."

His face contorted. "A…_fortnight? I am the Duc de Langeais!_"

I turned to him mockingly. "You are a Nephil," I answered, disgust slipping from my tone. Chauncey froze, before speaking quietly.

"What did you say?" I felt no harm in telling the half breed what he was.

"You belong to the biblical race of Nephilim. Your real father was as angel who fell from heaven. You're half mortal, half fallen angel." My eyes lifted to see his reaction. He shuddered, but he didn't seem too upset at the knowledge. It was slightly disconcerting. I wasn't sure what type of monster I'd sworn, but it certainly didn't matter as for two weeks of each year, I controlled him. He was now _mine. _

"Who are you?" he asked me. I hardly heard him; seeing as I'd done what I needed, I began to walk away. I made sure he couldn't follow.

When I got some distance, I heard him call after me: "Are you—fallen? Your wings have been stripped, haven't they?" I kept walking, both for my sanity and thus, his safety.

"This service I'm to provide; I demand to know what it is!" he shouted again.

I began to laugh softly as I continued my stroll.

* * *

><p>I knew that Chauncey would follow me, come morning. So I needed to move, and move quickly. I started with the town. Anyone who had seen me, or known who I was, needed to be wiped. It would take a toll on my power; of that I was sure. I started first with one of the young girls that fawned over me. Like a true demon of lust, I crooked my finger at her, smiled, and she followed me right into a nearby alley. Holding her face, as if I were to kiss her, I worked my way through her memories, and erased any sight of me from them. She collapsed to the ground, in a daze. Moving into the tavern, I saw that just about anyone that would recognize me was there. I tried my hand at an entire group of people; freezing them, I expunged any memory of myself from them. It took merely an hour. I was surprised, and fiercely proud of the power that I held. It was the sort of pride that the Archangels reviled, yet ironically displayed; I found myself practically writhing in it.<p>

Nina and Francis were asleep when I found them. I erased Francis' mind easily, but I stopped when I looked at Nina. Something like _guilt _came upon me, and I struggled to make myself erase her memories. She was the first person to be kind to me since I'd fallen onto Earth; although it had been my mindtricks at first, she'd taken me in, fed me, and given me something to do. She was kind, caring, smart, and sweet, the traits I was looking for in a human woman. If I were ever to describe any sort of love at that point, it would be for her; my adoptive mother. I wanted her to remember me; but then, she'd never accept who I really was, a disgraced angel. Especially with what I was about to do after I left her home. With that thought, I slowly removed myself from her mind. They would awake; they would all awake tomorrow, never knowing I existed. It was a very lonely feeling. Shaking my head, I left. There was one more stop I needed to make.

* * *

><p>I approached her home, and knocked on the door. Katharine opened it, her dress hanging off of her body. She smiled seductively as I entered the home, and threw herself on me when I closed the door. Moments later, I had her on the bed, and she was expending herself underneath me. As she began to cry out, I placed my hands around her neck, as if to caress her. I began to squeeze. She began to struggle, and kick underneath me, trying to scream. She swung her fists at my face, and for the first time, I was glad I couldn't feel, because nothing needed to interrupt my focus in this moment. She stared at me with red eyes; I returned her stare with a murderous gleam in my own. When she was near death, I let her go. She lay, gasping on the floor, when I came back with a knife, red hot from the fire in the room. Her eyes widened, and she parted her lips, begging for mercy.<p>

"This…this is _your_ fault. _Everything! _I watched you; I desired what I thought was your righteousness, and beauty, and love!" I pinned her to the floor. "You are a temptress, a whore, a demonic _snake, _and I lost _everything _because of your wiles! You are a murderer, and a thief, and you don't _deserve_ to breathe any longer. Not for the things that you've done. Not for the misery you've inflicted upon me."

Finished talking, I stabbed her. Over and over. My hatred ran through as I watched her suffer. Finally, while she lie on the ground gulping and choking on her own blood, I found her oil lamp. I remembered my fear of her being burned at the stake for "accidentally" killing her own husband. What a fool I was. She needed to experience this fire, and afterwards, _hellfire. _After pouring the oil everywhere, I threw the lamp on the ground, and I left the house.

Nehemiah's words came back to me as I watched it, and her, burn.

_Jev, what have you done to yourself?_

_I've avenged myself, one of many times to come. _I waited. I had no doubt as to who would be showing up to collect her blackened soul.

"Jev…" I looked over to see Nehemiah's hand on my shoulder.

"Jev…this isn't you, my brother. You _know _it isn't…" he whispered. I looked back at him, my face glowing from the fire, and from my hateful triumph. I didn't have to say a word. He saw how this had changed me; he knew that it was _far_ too late for me to turn back. He vanished without another word, and I looked back at the fire. Chauncey could consider it my going-away present.

Still smiling, I lifted my hood, and I ran into the night.

**And with that...baby Jev is dead, and Patch Cipriano is born. **


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

I came back to Loire Valley a year later, after wandering around the lands of France aimlessly. I'd worked on mind-tricks in my isolation. After tricking many a barkeep to pour me free drinks, free inn stays, and many a beautiful woman into my bed for a night, I could easily say I felt comfortable in my skills. It was gluttonous; because I couldn't feel anything, I felt this urge to indulge as much as possible. It should have made me feel better to know that, could I have felt, I would have had a life that many men would envy. Still, I didn't have enough. I was _cursed; _it would _never _be enough.

In the time I'd been missing, poor Francis had died, and the town was still full of speculation about what had happened to "_poor Katharine Lowry_". Fools. Surprisingly, the town had remained unscathed by the political battles raging outside of its hills. It was always a shame to me that its innocence wouldn't last too much longer.

Pondering these things in the cold graveyard, on top of Francis' gravestone, I heard a strange noise. I turned to see Chauncey walking towards me. To be fair, it was more like _dragging his unwilling feet_ towards me. He fell onto his knees a few feet away from me.

"Please…let us reconsider this…" he plead. I rose my eyebrows. Pleading? That wasn't the Duc's style.

"It was an oath sworn under Heaven and Hell, Chauncey. There is no _reconsidering." _I said quietly.

"I have a wife now." He stated.

"That's not a concern of mine."

"She's newly a mother; she has my son to watch over." He tried again.

"Hooray, a baby half-Nephil brat." I said, sneering. At my words, Chauncey's face paled, and he changed course.

"I saw it. I _saw _what you did to Katharine. It was _monstrous, demonic! _Worse yet, _no one knew _who you were! I searched the entire valley! But, coward, you slunk away!_" _he hissed.

I'd heard nothing after his accusation of my actions.

"It was no worse than…"_what she did to me! _I shrugged, bringing myself into the control. "If anything, you should be happy. I saved you from the _whore_ that she was. She simply wanted your bed for your money. She was a murderer, and a harlot, and you should thank me for ridding the world of her presence."

Chauncey had no words. He simply stared at me, and I drank in the horrified expression on his face. Then, I looked up. There was no moon. Something in me knew that it was time, and I faced him, determination etched onto my face. I charged towards Chauncey, hungry for his body. In fear, he turned to run away, but I ran right through him.

It was like wearing someone else's skin. My body began to fuse with his, and we fell to our knees. Chauncey's body was bulky, and ungraceful, in comparison to mine. Still, I was willing to accept it, because I could _feel _again. The wind that I'd taken for granted, I could _feel _it across my new skin.

_Let me go! _Chauncey yelled from inside of us. We jerked back as he tried to fight his way back into control.

_Chauncey, if you fight anymore, I'll have to do something I really don't want to. That wife, and that new child? I'll bash both of their heads in if you don't sit back and take this quietly. _I threatened evilly. It was wrong, and some part of me knew how sadistic I sounded, but I was so happy to feel again that I _refused _to let it go. As expected, Chauncey fell silent. Moments passed, and I was near the Chateau when he spoke again.

_I'll kill you. _He whispered. I reminded myself that I'd have to learn how to shut out his body and thoughts when I possessed him for next time.

_You will regret every single moment of this. _I smirked as I walked into the home. There was a marvelous mirror that hung on one of the walls in the great foyer. It was silver, and it stood about six feet tall. I looked at "my" reflection; Chauncey stared back, a look of wild contentment in his eyes.

_I wonder if your wife will notice the better lover you are, _I spoke back, deflecting his pointless threats.

Chauncey began to howl in agony as we looked up and noticed his little wife, the Duchess, come down the stairs. She wasn't much in beauty, but as her clothes bespoke, she'd brought with her one hell of a dowry.

"Where have you been, _ma Cherie?" _she asked me. "I've missed you!" I grabbed the dumpy little woman, and I held her close, making sure that Chauncey could see every moment of it. She looked up at me, and I suppose I didn't hide the avarice on my face well enough, because her own creased in worry.

"Chauncey? Are you well? _Ma Cherie? _Wake up!"

* * *

><p>"Wake up!"<p>

I opened my eyes as Nora leaned over me.

"Come on, sleepy! We're supposed to be going shopping today for this event tonight, remember? Wake up!" she said. Her face was crossed between amusement and annoyance.

"Right, Angel. Sorry." I got up and I smiled at her. Sighing in exasperation, she walked out of the room. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the memories that had weighed on my mind for so long.


	11. Chapter 10

**Just a note for you; the last line before the break, and the first line after the break, are supposed to be like a time shift. So, sort of imagine it like a movie where when one ends another one begins. Also, I'm trying to capture the difference between Present Patch and Past Jev. **

Chapter Ten

I was mildly aware of my surroundings. Nora had begged me to go to this white collar event that her job was having, and I couldn't say no to her. I chuckled as I remembered how she'd convinced me to go.

"_No offense, but you're a secretary Angel. How did you get invited to the CEO's event?" I asked._

_Nora blushed, as this was the question she didn't want me to ask her. _

"_Does it matter?" _

"_I'm curious." She sighed, exasperated. _

"_Fine! So…my boss thinks I'm cute and all…don't worry!" she hurried on, as my face must have looked dark. "He hasn't tried anything. Still, he told me about this event that was happening; I think he was going to ask me, but I stopped him. That, and a little bit of a mind-trick to get us invited, and here we are!" _

_She had this bright smile on her face as she ended, as if it would make me just accept everything she said. I had accepted it. I didn't mind taking her, but it was the perfect chance to tease her. _

"_So…I need to have a word with this boss of yours, right?" I hinted. She blushed again._

"_Look, I just want to have some fun, okay? I'm always working and you're always gone! Besides, I know for a fact that girls flock around you, and I've never said a word." I rose my eyebrows, thinking of the whole Marcie Millar and Dabria incidents. My thoughts must have registered on my face. _

"_Okay, so I haven't said too much!" She began to pout, and she placed her arms around my neck. _

"_Please…I can get the dress and everything! You'll love how I look! It'll be time for just us! And I want to see how you look in a tuxedo again…" I realized the direction of her thoughts, and suddenly, I didn't mind the idea of her in a dress anymore. Especially with what would be waiting for me afterwards. I sighed, smiling._

"_You win, Angel." Grinning, Nora sauntered out of the room. _

However, I hadn't been around such uninteresting people since I'd been kicked from Heaven.

It hadn't been completely not-worth it. The food and music were okay. And then there was my date. I felt like breaking a few men's necks after walking Nora through the building. She looked _amazing. _She'd bought a haltered sparkling black silk gown, with pearl earrings, and had her hair up in a bun with some messy curls falling. I'd almost not wanted to let her leave the house; it was all I could do not to rip the…

Nope, I couldn't even think about it. At the moment, we were dancing to slow music around the dance floor.

I dipped her backwards.

* * *

><p>Chauncey's wife fell backwards into my arms.<p>

She was sick, having caught the plague that ravaged through the valley years after my first encounter with Chauncey. The woman was clearly fading away. Chauncey had been smart enough to plan ahead, when he saw that the Valley was susceptible to the strange illness outside of its hills. He'd already sent most of their items and valuables to a ship that was waiting to cross the English Channel. He'd dragged his wife and children all the way up here, leaving the poor Valley to its own devices. There was no food; no clean water, and no one to turn to. Thievery had increased, as did arson and alcoholism. Poor Nina, and anyone else who hadn't left the town, died that year. I only stayed long enough to bury Nina in her own grave next to Francis, and then I followed Chauncey to the edge of France. Unfortunately for him, the ship was only sailing during Cheshvan, and so he couldn't get rid of me as easily as he'd hoped. Unfortunately for me, Cheshvan was coming to an end at the end of the night, and we were yet to have stepped foot onto the boat. I couldn't have Chauncey running away on me.

I looked down, through Chauncey's body, at his dying wife. I couldn't help but feel some sort of pity for her; she'd been a faithful little thing, breeding his children, although everyone knew that her husband was a playboy. Still, I couldn't afford to drag along her dead weight with me, and I couldn't let them stay here until she died some time later. Lifting the pillow from the bed, I placed it on top of her face. She barely struggled.

"Father?" I turned at the sound of "my" son staring at me. "What happened? What did you do?" he asked me, horrified. I approached him quickly, mindtricking him into believing that she'd died in her sleep. Quickly barking orders at someone to have the grave hands come and take her away, I grabbed the child and quickly stuffed him into a carriage. I demanded that the coach take us to the docks, where the boat was waiting for my command to sail.

I could feel my body slowly peeling away from Chauncey's. I struggled with him, holding on long enough to struggle onto the boat, and to fall onto the ground, before falling away. Quickly, I made myself invisible. Chauncey rose, sensing me in the area, and he began swinging wildly.

"You…bastard!" he shouted. "She couldn't even receive a proper burial!"

_She would have died eventually. As will the rest of your children, and those afterwards. _I told him matter of fact.

"Father!" Chauncey's annoying child cried out again. He grabbed him to stop him from swinging anymore. "I know you're sad, but you have to stop! She wouldn't want this! There's no one there, Father!"

_Listen to your son. He's very reasonable. _

Chauncey fell onto the ground, crying. I sneered at him.

_What, now is your time to cry? You slept around with the servants anyway! While your wife began to suffer, you were too busy with your hands in other pots to notice! You wanted that woman for her wallet and her womb; you don't deserve to cry for her! Her, nor any of the other poor souls you left to die in Loire Valley! _

"That's not true!" he sniveled. "I…I am a man! It was what my father did; it was what was expected of a man of my status… I…"

_Whatever. And we both know who your real father is. I'll find you when we reach English shores. _And with that, I sauntered into the lower level of the ship, leaving Chauncey to cry out in the soft rain.

**How am I doing? **


	12. Chapter 11

**Time shift! Also, I was trying to get a bit of the Irish accent going, but seeing as I'm not Irish...well...I tried :/ Don't hate it too much, okay?**

Chapter Eleven

_100 Years Later_

After a century the Langeais family, and thus I, were fully moved into the English countryside. They were set in farming, land and sea trade, and had made well enough connections that even English minor royalty and the like came to buy from them. They had plenty of connections, which meant plenty of money and fun for me. Chauncey had finally told his children of his…_affliction, _and when they tried to have him killed for "demonic possession", he'd been forced to mind-trick them into submission. They went along the rest of their lives believing that their father had died in a random mugging, and that they had to send money to a "cousin" back in France to get things rebuilt. That "cousin" was us. Still, besides that drawback, Chauncey had slowly worked his way back into the family dealings, and somehow had everyone around him convinced of some new identity. It was a lot of work that I wasn't truly interested in, as long as I benefitted from it.

He was best friends, and advisor to, his grandson, and the owner of the lands, Henry Langeais. The boy was even tempered, and much better natured than Chauncey. Still, innocent as he was, he listened to everything that Chauncey said. At the moment, he was convincing him not to chase after some common woman in town. I thought it was hilarious; Chauncey seemed to have learned his lesson, and was trying to impart that knowledge onto his clueless grandson. Curious, I wanted to know more about the woman that Henry was willing to give up everything for, so one day, I followed him.

Suddenly, I sensed something. It was a power, not unlike my own, and it was close. I began to walk slowly, trying to sense out where the being was. Something fell from the trees, and landed on my back. I struggled to get it off.

"_What do you want? She's mine, you foolish twat, mine!" _a voice hissed. Pinned, I decided to be reasonable.

"Relax! Relax, before you get us both spotted! I don't want any trouble, I was just looking around!" I hissed back. The voice waited, and slowly moved from my back. I looked up at a woman. She had black, curling hair, pale skin, and she glared at me from beady black eyes.

"What do you want?" she asked me. My eyes wide, I realized that she was a fallen angel. It was strange, but I hadn't come across another in my time on Earth yet. My old curiosity came charging back.

"Well! Ain't you ever seen another fallen before?" she asked, shaking her head.

"No, actually. What's your name?" I asked her. She looked at me, weighing her options. She must have deemed me harmless, because she shrugged.

"Deirdre. And you?" she asked.

"Jev."

"Well, Jev! _Thank you_ for interruptin' me day; now if you'll excuse me!" Deirdre turned and began to walk away. I followed her, craving the company.

"Wait! Who exactly are you watching? Maybe we're looking for the same person. I don't want to possess her though; I have my own vassal." I said quickly.

"Nosy boy…" she muttered. When we reached the top of the hill, she climbed into a tree that overlooked the other side. I followed.

"Maybe I can help. I do have connections with the young Lord…" At my tempting words, Deirdre stopped walking. She appraised me yet again.

"Hm…very well. I'm lookin' into something like that anyway. I need that human woman down there; Elizabeth Underwood." She pointed down the hill, and I stared. Henry Langeais was staring at a woman; a beautiful woman with flowing red tinted hair, and beautiful long legs. They seemed to be courting one another. So _this _was what Chauncey was trying to stop. I knew the power of a beautiful face; poor boy.

"I need to possess her. She has access to the Lord, and thus the money. However, I might kill her if I possess her too long. I need a way to get her to trust me." Deirdre explained.

"Which will be?" I asked.

"I've watched her for quite some time. Stupid wench, really. Nice, but stupid. Waiting for the young Duc to sweep her away. He never will; he's had that advisor of his hissin' away in his ear. I can't get them separate. However, if I can convince her that I can give her what she wants, I'll be havin' access to everything that she does." She finished.

"The flaw in that plan is to get _that advisor _away." I stated. Smiling, I leaned back in the tree. "Luckily for you, that man happens to be my vassal. I'll make you a deal. During Cheshvan, I'll get him to back off for you, if you split whatever money you make from the woman fifty-fifty with me."

Deirdre cackled. "That's an awful lot, laddie. How about you get twenty-five?" For all of her slang, I felt that I was dealing with a savvy woman. I decided not to push it.

"Deal. Are we partners?" I asked her, perhaps a bit too quick. She cackled again, pulling a knife out quickly and cutting her hand. I cut mine in return, and the deal was made.

"Not with ye, never! You're too soft, lad! Never met a boy who can't haggle! Just consider this our deal and be done. Oh, and this advice ought to help you- the first to name a price always loses." Smiling, she jumped from the tree, and sauntered away.

I kept looking down at Elizabeth Underwood. Stupid maybe, but beautiful. I'd always had a thing for red hair, anyway.

* * *

><p>I heard Henry in the room with "Elizabeth". It had been too easy. Like Deirdre had claimed, the girl wasn't very intelligent. She'd truly believed that it would all be so simple. I'd lost my attraction for her instantly once I heard her speak. For the two weeks of Cheshvan, I'd made sure Chauncey had stayed firmly out of reach, either in brothels or in bars, so that Deirdre's plans couldn't fall through.<p>

* * *

><p>"Did you mind trick him?" I asked Deirdre, after Cheshvan was over.<p>

"Of course! He's stuck on her now, for the time being." She answered confidently. "She's even got a bun in the oven now." I looked at her with interest.

"Oh, I made sure. I couldn't stay in her body for all of Cheshvan, but it was long enough to make sure that the money rolls in long after I got out. You know that your vassal will never let them marry, but a bastard child? Too hard to avoid. Now I just need to find me'self a real Nephil to possess."

I couldn't help but smirk at her plans; she returned it with a look of smug appraisal. Finally, she spoke.

"So, you want to make some more fallen friends, hm? Very well." She found a piece of old paper, with the name of a bar on it. "Head there. You're gonna need a boat to get there, obviously." Her face went dark for a moment, and her voice became serious. "Consider it your official initiation into this world. Good luck!"

Deirdre had found it hard to believe I'd never met another group of fallen angels; she considered me soft. I knew I needed to toughen, and for that, I needed to make connections, the same way Chauncey had in the human world. After I left her, I took some of Chauncey's money and provisions, and found the proper ship.

I was headed to Ireland.

**Guess who the little bun in THAT oven is!**


	13. Chapter 12

**It...it is here! I swear, I've taken this off of my docs manager so many times because I haven't felt that it was ready. But...I do believe that it is time. I think...I think it will do. No more editing it. I won't! Aside from my crazed babbling, I remembered from _Finale _something about a fallen angel initiation. It was hard at first, because I wondered how you initiate something that can't _feel. _Still, I did my best. **

Chapter Twelve

"Hey…are you okay?"

I opened my eyes to Nora, who was wiping my face with a cold rag.

"You look sick, love…how are you feeling?" she asked me. I looked over at the clock; it was 7 am, which meant that she had to leave for work soon.

"I'm fine, Angel." I whispered back. I'd gotten into an altercation the night before, and one of the men had shoved a shovel into my wing scars before robbing me and running off. It took me two hours to wake up, and then maneuver it out, and then I'd had to struggle to get myself into my truck to drive home. It was a miracle that Nora didn't notice. She was so used to me coming home late at times that she rarely stayed up anymore. That, and she was tired. As soon as I felt better, I planned on calling up a few friends and getting my revenge. But, at the moment, I had the worst headache, and it was safe to say that I didn't feel like moving anymore. I certainly wasn't going to tell Nora what had happened.

"Well, I don't think fallen angels get sick, so something else is wrong…" I waited as that savvy intuition of hers clicked in. "Patch, what trouble exactly _were_ you getting into last night?" Groaning, I turned over in bed, wishing she'd let it drop.

"It was nothing, Angel. Go to work, or lay back down, or something else!"

"Patch," she whispered, irritated. I didn't answer her. She sighed angrily.

"Okay, if we're going to do it like this," she pulled the covers off of me.

"Get up!"

* * *

><p>"Get up!" someone shouted as I fell down onto the ground.<p>

I heard a bell ring, and I was dragged to the side of the room. I'd been punched right in the face, and I can honestly say that I almost felt it. I was pretty so-so at bare-knuckle boxing, at least when it came to hurting the other person. I was fast, and strong…problem was, I struggled with blocking. I was also much skinnier than the person I'd been pitted up against tonight.

I'd been through grueling things since I'd reached the shores of Ireland. When I found the bar that Deirdre had directed me towards, I was immediately pegged as a rookie. As soon as they noticed I was a fallen angel, I was dragged out of the bar, and something was stabbed into my back. I woke up later in the middle of the woods, chained face first onto a tree. They asked me who I was, and who sent me. When I answered "Deirdre," there was a lot of chuckles from the crowd.

"Good old spitfire, Deirdre is. If she sees somethin' in ye, I guess we have to bring it out! Cause right now, all I see is a _pretty boy." _Someone said.

I learned what Deirdre meant by "initiation" when I dealt with what was apparently how fallen angels made you experience Hell.

First, they'd left me chained up on my own for what had to have been weeks. There were chains that tied my arms up above my head in the branches, and my legs to the tree. The only thing not chained was my back, leaving my wing scars in sight. The only time someone came back was to tighten the chains around me, so I couldn't move. I couldn't feel the chains, but the lack of movement or people was driving me insane. There was no one around to hear me, and so through the elements I was stuck there, trying to get out of my predicament.

When they finally did come back, they taunted me.

"Are you gonna ask to leave?" one said.

"No, are you gonna _beg?" _said another. Instinctively, I realized that if I begged, they'd either leave me here for another period, or let me go and never speak to me again. So I stayed silent, refusing to speak.

"Well, we have ourselves a fighter!" the main voice shouted. He approached my ear; I could barely move to see his face. "You've got some gall. We'll see how you do for a bit longer." He snapped his fingers, and I suddenly felt like puking. I knew something had been stabbed through my scars, and when I lifted my head, I saw a sword protruding through my chest. Once more, I couldn't feel it, but the sight was enough to shock me. I jerked as another sword was shoved through my chest. The blood began running up through my mouth; I couldn't do anything but gurgle. The last day that they tried, I'd panicked. It took me a moment before I realized that, in my panic, I'd possessed the man throwing the sword.

"So, tell me, boy." The leader asked me. "Why haven't you done that before now?"

I honestly had no clue.

"I'll tell you why. You never even considered doing it. Your body was pushed to a limit, and you acted instinctively. However, you've been pushing yourself mentally. You knew the challenge, and accepted it." The man's body rejected mine, and I was back in my chains.

"See, I'm much harsher than other fallen angels you might meet around here. And the fallen that I surround myself with, in the commune, are among the toughest you'll ever meet. I'm making you stronger, boy. You'll thank me later." I looked at his face; a large brown beard surrounded the face of the large pale man whose arms had to be thicker than my entire body. I was baffled.

"I'm not finished with you yet, though. You've got a bit more to go." Before I could use a mindtrick to stop them, my mind was filled with images.

Burning flesh, stab wounds, impalement; any sort of torturous injury one could receive, it went through my head. I swore that I could _feel _every single injury. I screamed out in agony, but no one cared. After ages, I realized that these were images conjured up in my mind. Because they weren't real, I couldn't actually feel them, and I wasn't actually being harmed. I was able to bring myself into a state of meditation, ignoring the pain, and clearing my own mind.

I didn't know how long I was there until one day I was released from the chains altogether, and dragged to an inn. I woke up later, staring into the face of the Leader. He smiled down at me.

"Four months, boy. I'm impressed. Torture much longer than any other man has taken, and yet you came out of it with just sun blistered skin."

I glared at him hatefully, and he laughed at my expression.

"You've learned how to control your own mind, control others, withstand pain, and keep to yourself. Those are important traits to have in this world. Keep your mouth shut, and you'll get by just fine." Lifting me, he led me towards the small clearing of my suffering. He directed me towards the middle of the circle. When I looked at the entire clearing, I realized that the circle was in fact a pentagram.

"Kneel." Nodding, I did as I was told. Men began to surround me from the dark, reaching the end points of the pentagram, and my nervousness increased. An ancient fallen angel came from the darkness, chanting. He grabbed a bowl, and poured something onto my head. It was blood. Placing the bowl at my knees, he commanded me to bathe my hands in it. The other men began to chant around me in the language of the Angels. It was an eerie, macabre sort of irony; I was being anointed, the same way that Samuel anointed Saul with oil. It was to represent ascension, or in my case, descension. The man painted a bloody star on my forehead, and things went silent. I didn't speak.

When the others vanished into the darkness, I was led back to the inn. I didn't know who the man leading me was, but I had a burning question.

"The blood," I whispered. "Where did it come from?"

"It's human blood. They kill and hang a human specifically for the anointments." He said this without any sort of scruples. "It's symbolic; you've got blood on your hands, and on your soul, and it will never be washed away. Consider yourself now a true _demon, _Jev Cipriano. Officially, you're one of us. Now you just have to make yourself known."

I supposed that I was thought to be ready, because I was thrown into the throngs of the fallen and left to my own devices. I never saw the strange men again. It took me _years. _The other fallen angels would taunt and bully me, and push me around. One day, I finally snapped and ended up stabbing one right through his chest, into his scars. I must have seemed crazy; feral like an animal, because no one bothered me after that. I did as told, keeping quiet, and staying in the shadows, getting by. As for my sanity; I never spoke of it to anyone; there was no one to tell anyway. The image of the dead human, strung up for blood like an animal, would appear in my dreams, and some days it would be Katharine or the Duchess. It disturbed me, deeply, and at times, I swore I could see the blood, _their _blood, on my hands.

I tried to think of other, lighter things to distract myself. I hadn't experienced Cheshvan in so long. I wondered if Chauncey thought he was free. I wondered if Deirdre still had my money. It was thoughts of returning to England; thoughts of finally feeling again, that kept me going. Leaving was no easy venture; you had to travel with someone, and you needed the money to leave. There was no mindtricking the Captain for passage. Needing quick money had driven me first towards work, and then towards boxing.

**I wanted to get all American Horror Story gory with it, but that would have been too hard. Feel free to jazz it up with your own imaginations; anything you can think of, he went through it! Also, I swear "descension" is a word, but it says it not! Why is there "ascension" but not "descension"? I know I've heard it used before! If it's not, well...forgive me, and teach me the real word. Please review, loves! **


	14. Chapter 13

**Okay guys...it's the chapter you've all been asking for...without further ado...**

Chapter Thirteen

"Lad, you look bloody awful." My ring man told me. I seemed to get the same guy every time I fought to clean me up. He'd taken me to a backroom, where I could get all of the bandages I needed.

"Might let the bigger men keep to boxing, eh?" he said, with a piteous smile on his face. I glared at him; normally he just cleaned me up and let me leave.

"No one asked you to help me." I didn't want him to help me, but I couldn't wrap myself up. It was embarrassing, and I didn't need him rubbing loss in my face.

"Look, mate, I can only patch you up so many times before you just don't fit together anymore."

I spat, trying to clear the blood from my mouth. A tooth came out, and I couldn't help but grimace at what I must look like.

"Aw, lost a tooth? Not such a pretty boy anymore, are you?" he chuckled at his own jokes. "Your face looks as awful as that last fight."

Pissed off, I swung at him. He quickly dodged, lifted me up and threw me onto the floor. To add insult to injury, he lifted me back onto the table and wrapped the now bloody cut I had.

"All done." He stepped back to look at me. I must have looked a sight, because he sighed.

"How about a drink?" I stopped to stare at him weakly.

"Look, thanks for fixing me up, but no thanks." I answered. I just wanted to go to my room and sleep off my humiliation. He stopped me at the door.

"That's no way to thank the one friend you've got here. If it weren't for me, you'd have been out on your arse awhile before now. Consider yourself under my wing. Now, I've never bothered to ask your name, so I think I'll just call you…" he looked me up and down. "Patch. That ought to do. Now, about that drink!" he grabbed his coat.

I was frozen in my spot. "What the _hell_ did you just call me?" He turned, amused.

"Are you deaf? _Patch_. After all the times I've patched you up. Now are you coming?"

"And you are?" I whispered through clenched teeth. He rolled his eyes.

"Bit edgy, aren't you? No wonder you don't have any friends." He gestured proudly at himself. "The name's Rixon! Now hurry up, there are beautiful women and liquor waiting!"

I didn't know how to feel. Part of me still wanted to slink away and sulk. The other part of me wanted to revel in the idea that I had a friend, since the first I'd arrived. Rixon, whoever he was, had decided to take me on, and I couldn't help but appreciate it. I smiled, and I followed him out of the building.

But the nickname would have to go.

* * *

><p>I smiled at Rixon as we approached the English shores. It had been a decade since I'd been back, and to say I was excited was an understatement.<p>

"Definitely a city boy, I see!" he'd remarked at the expression on my face.

I'd convinced Rixon to come with me to England much more easily than I'd expected to.

"Plenty of women, money, and anything else you could want!" I said. I explained to him who I was, and my situation. He pondered my words.

"Deirdre has probably spent your money. Sorry, mate. But there is the chance that I could find me'self a Nephil." He answered.

"I can promise you a Nephil, unclaimed. You'll have to wait, probably six more years?" Rixon rose his eyebrows, curious. I continued, having his attention.

"It's a wait, I know. When I left, Deirdre made sure that the woman, Elizabeth Underwood, was having a baby. I know it's a stretch, but if that baby is a boy, you'll have access to the money that he receives his entire existence. I'll make sure of it."

Rixon was quiet for a moment. "And if it's not?" I grimaced. He sighed.

"Look, if it isn't, I'll find myself someone else. Can't be hard; I've heard London is a big city. Might scratch by with a duke of my own!" Smiling, he held his hand out.

"That's it? That's all you're going to go on?" I couldn't believe my fortune in finding such an open minded friend.

"Sure. I need to get out of here as much as you do. You're so uptight, Patch. Loosen up. I said, _loosen up," _he said, shaking me. I'd tensed up at the nickname. Everyone called me that. _Everyone. _It'd spread like wildfire, especially when the reason for it was revealed by a drunken Rixon at a bar one night.

I smiled tightly. "I need my poker face, Rixon. There's nothing wrong with my seriousness." Taunts from Rixon aside, I'd given up boxing and found a niche for myself in the area of gambling. The nights that Rixon took me to the bar, I'd learned the card games, and my new quiet, cunning and shadowy persona made me a natural at them. Once he saw me earn enough, Rixon began to encourage my "social skills". The more money I made, the more friends and enemies I made. I went from unknown to famous in the commune pretty quickly.

"Yeah, until you want to get a lass into bed. I'd like to see you glare one down!" he retorted. We finished making plans to leave, and a week later, we were arriving into the port. I wanted to move quickly, so as soon as I'd found a coach, we were headed to the countryside.

Rixon had decided to wait on a Nephil until he saw what I had to offer. As for Deirdre, we'd decided that we could deal with that depending on her own actions. He was the perfect friend; he rarely questioned my motives, and for all of his brash behavior and loud mouthed-ness, he was quick-witted, intuitive, and had no problems strong-arming someone. He almost reminded me of Ezra. After my time at the commune, I had matured, much more so in ten years than I had in a hundred. I was much more intelligent, no longer so quick to speak, and the decisions that I made were no longer on impulse or out of fear. From both training and cards, I'd gained the patience of a predator, and I knew how to wait _just long enough _for something to go my way.

Still, I could hardly contain my excitement as we reached the farm. Someone had kindly mentioned that it was harvesting time, and that meant the Cheshvan was only weeks away. It would be like drinking wine; re-entering the body of Chauncey Langeais. I couldn't wait!

Rixon turned to me, examining my face.

"You look pretty rough. Might want to stop somewhere and freshen up."

I chuckled. "What's it to you?"

* * *

><p>"What's it to me?" Nora cried.<p>

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to stay awake and appease Nora. I hadn't meant to say those words; they'd slipped out in my impatience of her yelling.

"Look, I'm exhausted. Why can't you see that?" I said angrily, staring at her. "Your yelling isn't going to make anything better; in fact it's just wasting time, so do me a favor and _stop_."

Her face turned white, and her stance went rigid.

"Stop it, right. Okay." She whispered. "Look…I don't know how unaware, or stupid, or whatever you seem to think I am, but I am _none _of those things!" Her lip began to quiver.

"Something's been bothering you lately. I know it has. I hardly ask you what you've been doing. I _never_ ask, because I know that it's your business. You- you and all of your _secrets! _But it's been different. I don't know why you can't trust me, or…or…" Nora's eyes watered, and I immediately felt bad for my sharp words.

"Angel," I opened my arms, but she didn't walk towards me. Instead, she turned her face and stepped back, and my heart dropped. That _hurt. _"Okay, wait—"

"No! No, it's fine. I'm just overreacting, right? Like I always do. I'll just go; I'll be late if I don't run to work. See you, you know, when you have time to _acknowledge_ me." And with that, she grabbed her things and ran out.

_Great. _I sighed and dropped my hands.I trusted Nora with my life. It was just hard for me to tell her things; I didn't want to worry her with my own problems. I wanted her to have as normal a life as possible. I'd have to make up for it later, to stop the monster that was growing inside of her; the monster that made Nora determined to find out _exactly _what she isn't supposed to.

**Uh oh...marital problems? Hm? **


	15. Chapter 14

**So, the Present plot has detail that Patch can't know about, and as such, it was time to get Nora in here! The story is going to start switching back and forth a bit, so I'll make sure to start labeling it for you all so that you know the who's, whats and whens. Enjoy!**

Chapter Fourteen

**Nora's POV**

"Oh, Vee! Don't be that way. You know Patch wouldn't. It's _got _to be something else. I _know _it is." I said, sighing. I was on my lunch break, and I was with Vee, who was in town from England on her holiday.

"Yeah…last time you thought he was cheating, we ended up snooping through the ho's diary. It wasn't your proudest time." Vee paused, taking a bite out of her donut. "Still, I think you should put your foot down about it. Trust is important in a relationship, and you deserve to know what you ask for. He certainly knows your entire past." I nodded eagerly.

"He knew about my destiny before I was even born!" I glared down, stabbing my pasta salad. "He makes sure I don't touch his scars either. I just…it's so irritating! You'd think he'd trust me by now; I mean, we've been together for five years at this point, and have an eternity to go! He may as well start now."

"That is strange." Vee mused. "How do you get around that? Touching his scars I mean? Especially during-"

"Vee!" I cried. She stopped, laughing behind her hands.

"Sorry, sorry." She said, still chortling. Blushing, I smiled. Then I leaned forward towards her.

"Creative work-arounds, by the way." I whispered wickedly. Vee threw her head back, laughing.

"Well, look at you, freak! I never thought you'd be the one on-" she cried, wiping her face. I shushed her, not wanting the world to know my business.

"I need to figure out what's going on. Asking Patch directly while blind…well, it's never been effective. He'll just turn away or maneuver out of the conversation. I _need_…I need _something_ to approach him._" _

"Is knowing his job really so necessary? I mean, he brings you flowers and nice things and your life doesn't seem too crappy to me. Maybe he just wants to keep you safe." Vee suggested.

"It's not just his _job, _Vee! It's that he seems to know everything about me, including where I am at any time due to the chip he's placed in my wallet (that he doesn't think I know about), and I know _nothing _about him! What type of trust is that? I'm sorely tempted to just hit him in the scars myself!"

"Hm. I don't know about that, Nora. That will _not _go down well. Really. I can always…" Vee stopped, looking behind me. I began to turn.

_What is it? What do you sense? _I asked her.

_I thought I saw…there, again! They want us to follow them. Here, follow me…_Vee got up and began slowly walking. I followed suit. We eventually walked towards a shadier neighborhood, and a hooded figure turned down an alley. They stopped walking when they reached a dead end.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" Vee commanded. I stood quietly, confused as to why we'd followed some random person.

We gasped in shock when the hood came down.

* * *

><p><strong>Patch's POV (Past)<strong>

I was leaning on top of the farm's rafters, in the shadow, letting my legs hang down. It was a funny sensation; for a moment, I'd wanted to jump, and let my wings carry me away.

_If only, _I thought bitterly. I watched through the doors as Chauncey followed the little boy's every movement. He'd taken him on as a ward; as a "cousin". True to form, he'd never let Henry marry Elizabeth, but in return for her silence, she was being paid a handsome sum. I was sure that Henry still went to see her, although he was officially married. The boy kicked a ball into the farm, and raced to come get it. I pulled my legs onto the rafter, getting ready.

"Barnabas, boy! Get out of that dirty barn!" he shouted, following the boy. Barnabas Underwood was aged ten, with reddish-blonde hair and his mother's bright blue eyes. Rixon had liked him immediately. In his mind, Barnabas Underwood was perfect. He was a bastard child, which meant that he had the money and privileges of a duke, but not the duty that came with it. Because he was a Nephil, he'd live long enough to make much more. The best part, in Rixon's mind, was that the boy looked healthy. He'd grow into a "handsome and hearty lad, which means more ladies for me!"

Chauncey grabbed the ball and threw it out for the laughing boy to go catch. When the boy ran out, I cleared my throat. Chauncey froze, and began looking around himself wildly.

"I wish you hadn't lost faith in me, Chauncey! You didn't even run away from this area; in fact you've gotten quite comfortable. I'm a little hurt." I drawled. "I had to go away for a little while, but now I've returned, and I hope you don't mind if I've brought a friend with me."

He finally found me, standing in the rafters. "I…I thought…you were…"

I didn't let him finish. "No, Chauncey Langeais, I've returned. And to such _good news! _A position at court; profits increased tenfold; a trip to America? Best of all, Henry was able to bask in his love! Both with an official duchess, _and _with Elizabeth Underwood. I'd heard that a baby was born?" I looked down upon him, loving how he was forcing himself not to squirm with fear.

"Leave that child alone. He is innocent; he has done nothing wrong." Chauncey whispered.

"The child is a Nephil." Chauncey started at my words. "Haven't you sensed it?"

"But…Henry is not…which means…" he said, thinking hard. He was following the exact thoughts that I'd placed for him. I was solving two issues in one blow. One for Chauncey, to get my affairs in order. Another was dealing with Deirdre. It seemed, upon my return, that she didn't have the money that she'd promised. Because I hadn't actually "sworn" anything, she claimed, she was held to nothing. She said that she'd expected me to go to the commune, but never come back, and that I needed to "sod off" and leave her investments be. Rixon had wanted to fight her, but I held him back. We'd simply left in silence.

_Investments, _indeed. I'd left, and in the time I was gone, the lifestyle I'd left behind, like fine wine or cheese, had aged magnificently. I planned on taking it all back, including the new things. Deirdre had betrayed me; tried to take my things; still thought me the little boy that she'd fooled into a deal. She was wrong, and I'd make sure she _lost it all. _

"Elizabeth Underwood was possessed of a fallen angel. She made a deal with it, so that she could be with Henry Langeais, thus producing a half demon. She will continue to be possessed every Cheshvan, and will continue to bewitch him. Shame." I said nonchalantly, increasing his anger.

"I knew that girl was trouble, but this!" Chauncey sputtered angrily.

"She plans on murdering Henry, so that her son, Barnabas, can take the dukedom. The little boy knows nothing of his mother's plans; he might just be redeemable." I lied smoothly, making sure that he was beyond reason.

"She…she's a _witch! _Corrupted by the devil! I'll stop that bitch…I'll stop the bitch, and I'll stop you," he said, pointing accusingly at me, "from whatever plans you have! You will not touch that boy!"

I placed my hand over my heart dramatically. "Have you grown to care for the child? How sweet."

Seething, Chauncey ran from the barn. I shook my head, climbing from the rafters.

"Oh Chauncey," I murmured. "Witches don't exist. But the demons that will follow you; those are _real _and _everlasting._"

I walked from the barn to find Rixon.

**Please review!**


	16. Chapter 15

**I completely forgot to tell you guys: Happy New Year! **

Chapter Fifteen

The next evening, I leaned on a tree next to the wooden stage. Chauncey stood there, pacing back and forth like a lion waiting for its victim, and the crowd waited in intense agony for the show to begin. Finally, Elizabeth Underwood was dragged out in chains.

Chauncey had immediately decided to publicly denounce her for her "crimes", and for them, he made sure that she suffered immensely. Looking at her now, I could see that her fingernails had been cracked and torn off, she had been beaten, and chunks of her hair had been pulled out. She was hardly recognizable. The jailer chained her onto the stage, and backed away. Chauncey stepped forward to speak to the crowd.

"This woman, Elizabeth Underwood," he said, pointing at her, "is not only a harlot, but a _witch!" _The crowd gasped, and Elizabeth screamed.

Unmoved, he continued. "She has willfully submitted herself to the devil, and has admitted to conspiring to murder the Duke!"

"_No!_" Elizabeth screamed. The crowd began to hiss and jeer at her, drowning her out. Under torture, Elizabeth had done what any woman had done in her situation- she'd admitted to anything they accused her of. "Chauncey, think of Barnabas!" she plead, grasping his shirt. Chauncey slapped her onto the ground.

"Do not speak to me, _harlot!_" He turned to the crowd. "What shall we do, with such a woman?" He asked them.

"Burn her!" "Stone her!" "Drown her!" "Squash her!" Chauncey pretended to think about it, leaving the poor woman to shake on the wooden boards in fear.

"Chauncey…my lord please…think of my _son…_think of my baby boy, _please!" _she whispered, unable to raise her voice. He leaned towards her, eyes narrowed.

"I have no pity for a soulless harlot such as yourself. You've done nothing but enable evil to work itself upon this planet. I'll send you, you _and _the fallen angel, both to hell where you will burn for your sinful choices." Her eyes widened, and she began to wail as he backed away.

_Look at him! The power's going straight to the fanatic's head! He's killing an innocent woman. Poor thing; she was entirely too lovely to die this way. _Rixon commented. He stood some ways back, forcing a sword into Deirdre's wing scars. _I must say, you're diabolical, Patch. Still, if this is the plan…_

I shushed him, and continued to watch intently.

"Elizabeth Underwood, you have been infected by the devil, and need to be purged. As such, I move to have you burned at the stake. May God have mercy on your soul."

Elizabeth began to shriek and struggle as the jailer pulled her away from the stage.

* * *

><p>Rixon and I watched as Chauncey lit the fire to have Elizabeth burned. Seeing it as fit, we'd kidnapped and mindtricked little Barnabas into watching right alongside us. As she began a bloodcurdling scream at the flames licking her legs, he screamed, and then fainted.<p>

Before she succumbed to the flames, Elizabeth turned to her head to Chauncey. Her eyes flashed in hate and agony as she spat the words.

"_You will burn in Hell for this, Chauncey Langeais! The pain you suffer at the hands of the fallen; may it be a thousand times more miserable than mine! If I am infected by the devil, then you are the devil incarnate!" _

Chauncey paled at her words, but turned away. Seeing enough, Rixon threw the boy over his shoulder, and we left.

* * *

><p>Chauncey staggered into the barn, finally finding Barnabas hiding asleep in the hay.<p>

"Well, well Chauncey. I've seen some pretty disgusting things, but I'd have to say your little show of hypocrisy tonight topped them all." I said, leaning over the child. I looked him in the eye; he seemed to be in shock. "Let us contemplate; if Elizabeth Underwood is going to Hell, then your mother must also be, considering she gave birth to you. _Sex _with a demon. _Willfully submitted to the devil. _Or will you say that isn't true?" I asked, because he'd started to question my words. "The reality is, Chauncey, you're more of a demon than Elizabeth Underwood ever was. All you've accomplished tonight is killing an innocent woman, and depriving a child of its mother."

I could tell that my words affected him. He fell to the ground, curling up around his knees. I walked past him.

"Still, you've helped me thwart an enemy of mine, so I thank you." Chauncey made a gurgling sound in his throat, and I chuckled silently.

"And here you thought I was a monster for Katharine, yet you went in haste to do the same thing. Except, in your case, the woman was innocent." I looked back at Barnabas, and back to Chauncey.

"How will you explain to this little boy that you killed his mother? He saw what you did tonight; I made sure he was perfectly aware."

He swung at my legs. I simply moved, and began to saunter out. Looking at the sky, I saw that the moon was almost completely waned. I turned back.

"Cheshvan approaches. I expect you here." Chauncey lifted his head, and I looked into his eyes. Already I could see the familiar demons floating inside of them.

"Why must you torment me? What have I done to deserve the pain you put me through?" he asked me intensely. "Why can't you take my body, and leave me be for the rest of the time? _Why am I so forsaken?_"

My eyes fell at his words. When I spoke, I spoke from a dark and hollow space inside of myself.

"You, and the rest of your breed, were destined to be forsaken. You are nothing but a _mistake; _an abomination produced by the pride of fallen angels. Our punishment is our lack of ability to feel. Consider it _your_ punishment for_ existing_." I left him there, withering at my harsh words. I couldn't help but feel bitterness at my own lot; the reality was that fallen angels, myself included, wanted what the Nephilim had. Immortal life, _and_ the ability to feel. They had it _all, _without any sort of suffering. They were simply _born _with it! By taking over his body, I was getting back at the archangels, at life, at suffering. I couldn't bring myself to feel pity for him; I was too selfish.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

**Patch's POV**

I watched, worrying, as Nora picked over her plate, hardly eating. For all of her large exit this morning, she'd come in extremely quiet. I'd surprised her by being home and making dinner, lasagna, but her reaction was still muted.

"Did something happen at work today, Angel?" I asked her, looking at her face. Her jaw twitched, but she kept her face composed.

"Nope," she said, flipping her hair back and eating. She was lying, and I didn't know why, but I decided not to press her just yet.

"I'm sorry for speaking to you that way this morning. It was wrong, and I shouldn't have been impatient with you. I had a rough night, that's all. Forgive me?" I asked lightly.

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. It was wrong of me to bother you like that. I just…I got a little worried. Sorry." She finally looked at me and smiled beatifically. It warmed my heart, and I smiled back.

"I just don't like to talk about my past. It's not something that I'm proud of. It's not anything that should interest you, either." I said, trying to drop the subject.

"But how do you _know _it won't interest me? I mean, you've been around for so long, Patch! There are so many things that you have to have seen, or done! So much history that you were there for first hand, and-" she said, leaning in excitedly. Thinking of the things that I'd "seen and done" made my nervous answer sharper than I'd meant it.

"Yes, I know it won't interest you, and _no, _you can't see my scars because I know that's next." I rose my eyebrows as Nora's face flushed. After a moment, she leaned back, and her face resumed the far off, defeated look it'd had on when she walked in.

"Angel, don't give me that look—"I started.

"I had lunch with Vee today. She's back in from England," she interrupted, trying to keep her tone light.

"How was that?"

"She…" she paused, struggling for words. "She said that she thinks I ought to put my foot down." She smiled at the table, pain showing on her face. "But I don't think it would matter. Not with you, anyway."

"Nora. You know I care about your opinion, and how you feel. But I need you to trust me on this."

Nora began laughing. It was a quiet, pained sound.

"Sure." She got up, clearing her place at the table. "I'm going to Vee's tonight, okay? Don't wait up."

Oh boy. "You going to be okay?" I asked her, leaning back to look at her. She stopped placing her dishes in the sink, her back turned to me.

"Yeah." She said, halfheartedly.

"That doesn't sound so sure." I answered.

"What's the matter, Patch?" she said aggressively, slamming the plate down, breaking it. "Don't you _trust me? _Think I might go somewhere different? It's not like you can't _see _me there!_" _I stood up quickly at her sudden change of tone.

"Nora!" I shouted. Ignoring me, Nora grabbed her coat and her keys and charged for the door. This time, I stood in front of it, blocking her way.

"Move," she commanded. I braced my shoulders.

"No."

"_Move!"_

"I am _not _doing this with you. I'm not sure what's going on, but I am not fighting with you over something so little!" I told her, crossing my arms. "So you tell me what's up."

Nora paused, and there was silence in the room. Her chest rose furiously, and then she exhaled sharply. "So little…No. I don't think I am going to tell you. Not until I'm _ready. _Now, please get out of my way." She whispered.

"Nora."

"I don't want to have to fight you," she said quickly. "It'll only make things worse. Just let it go, and let me leave. I need…I need to think."

I was shocked at the notion that she'd been prepared to fight me to get out. Silently, I moved out of the way, and she opened the door and walked out.

It could have been minutes, or hours, until I moved from the wall again. I checked my phone to see where her tracker was; she was, indeed, at Vee's. Sighing, I sat down. I hated arguing with Nora; I hated seeing her unhappy, and there were so many better things I could be doing with her instead. It was times like these where I missed having Rixon around to laugh at me. I could never tell Nora, but I missed having my brother around; the brother that he'd been _before _everything he'd made the decision to betray me. He may not have been perfect, or completely sane, but he'd been through my side long enough to empathize with me, and that's what I needed. I needed someone that already _knew _my secrets to confide in, and to ask for advice, without worrying. I didn't have many (if any) real friends anymore, and I wasn't the best at making new ones. I sighed; Rixon was beyond death now, and he wasn't ever coming back.

There was a quiet knock on the door, and I tensed. It wasn't Nora coming back, so it wasn't anyone I was expecting. I wanted to ignore it, but I sensed an eerie familiarity about the presence, so after a moment, I opened the door to see who it was. My eyes widened in shock.

Standing on the other side, sheepishly, were Nehemiah and Ezra.

* * *

><p><strong>Nora's POV<strong>

Well, that had been a failure.

I'd gone home today nervous, trying to find a way to approach Patch. It was my last ditch effort at not sneaking around, but at the moment, I was out of options.

When the man in the alleyway lowered his hood, I'd been in shock. Shock quickly turned into anger, and not just for me.

"Son of a bitch," Vee whispered, her hands tightening into fists. I had to stop her from charging him then and there.

Elliot Saunders stood at the end of the alley, bag on his back and hands in his pockets. I hadn't seen him since I'd accidentally killed Jules/Chauncey that night in high school years ago.

"Where the hell did you even come from? Not only that, but where did you even go? And what the hell are you doing here?" Vee sputtered. She was enraged; as for me, I just wanted to leave him in the past where he belonged.

"Well, hello Nora, Vee. It's been a long time." He said, smirking.

"Hi. Goodbye," I said, grabbing Vee.

"Wait!" he called. I turned, unwillingly. "Give me a chance, okay? Besides, even if I did try something, we all know that the both of you can take me out quickly. I have something that you might find of interest." I looked at Vee.

_Are you buying this? _She asked me.

_Not completely, but he's no threat anymore. _I answered.

_I am curious as to why he came back. Could be interesting. _Vee answered. She turned to Elliot.

"All right, what do you want?" she asked. Elliot smiled, opening his mouth. I cut him off.

"First, I want to know what happened to you after…after…" I hedged.

"After my stay in the hospital, my family moved me away. I needed to get as far away from here as possible; start a new life." He answered. I nodded. Fair enough.

"The reason I returned was because I've been…struggling a bit since then. Money has been pretty tight." he continued. Vee smirked.

"So you're here to blackmail us? Have you really stooped so low?" she asked.

"Yes and no. I'm here because I have something that Nora may want to read." My eyebrows rose.

"What is it?" I asked him suspiciously. Vee looked at me as if I was crazy.

"I've been doing research into the person that formerly called himself Jules, and I've come across some pretty interesting things." Elliot said, looking right at me. "Vintage items, historical facts…and diaries. It seems that _Chauncey de Langeais _has quite the story to tell."

Vee responded faster than I could. "How do you know that Nora doesn't know everything in those diaries?" Elliot shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't. The only reason I came here first was because I know that she's descended from him. It's technically a family heirloom, and as such, she might be interested. I've already sold some of the other things I've found, but this….these are jewels. Besides, she chose that fallen angel over me." he said, raising his hands questioningly. "Do you really know the man that you're dating?"

I was silent. Here I was, just saying how I wanted to know more about Patch's past…

"How do I know you're not lying? You could have just overheard my conversation." I asked quietly.

"Nora, you can't really…" Vee started. I held my hand up, silencing her.

"I did overhear your conversation, which makes me that much more confident that you'll accept. I could have sold them for a pretty penny. I'm here because I wondered if you'd have a prettier one." Elliot answered. "Considering who Patch is, you have the money."

"How much?"

"How much do you want it?" he asked.

"I could mindtrick you into giving them to me for _free_; I'm being friendly. Now _how much?" _I hissed.

Elliot swallowed. "Twenty thousand per diary"

"Five."

"Sixteen."

"_Ten_; take it or leave it."

Elliot sighed angrily. "Deal."

"Well, let's see them." Vee commanded.

"I want the money first." Elliot said. Suddenly, he reached into his backpack, and pulled out a large sandwich bag with three old journals inside of it. I looked at Vee. She shrugged.

"He was doing too much. At least we know that it's real now. Are you sure? You could just reach out and take them…" I looked at Elliot, whose eyes were glazed over.

"I'll give him something. He's obviously struggling if he fell back on blackmailing old classmates." I said, looking at him with something close to pity. Vee shook her head but didn't argue.

"And Patch won't notice?" she asked.

"Sure he will. But I once saw him haggle three sentences of information over for twelve thousand dollars. I think I've made the better deal. I'll just...make something up for him..." I said, taking the bag from Elliot. He started at my quick movement.

"What about my money?" he growled.

"I'll get it to you tonight." I answered vaguely. "Oh, and-"I turned back and looked straight into his eyes. _Ten thousand for all three. _He nodded. Grabbing Vee, I sped out of the alley.

"Shit, now I'm late for work," I said, looking at my phone. I'd handed the diaries to Vee, deciding that I'd try honesty one last time with Patch before reading any of them.

Now that I was speeding to Vee's, I decided that it was to hell with honesty. She opened her door before I could even knock on it, excited.

"I didn't even open them yet, I've been waiting for you." she said, letting me inside.

**Oooooooh?What's in those diaries? And I always wondered what happened to Elliot; I felt like he knew a lil bit too much to have just completely vanished from the series. And I've always thought Nora was so impulsive on the wrong things; makes me just wanna shake her sometimes! Anyway, please, I appreciate the love I've been receiving, and I hope to receive so much more! You guys rock! **


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

**Six years after the burning**

"You know what to do?" I asked Rixon, raising my eyebrows. We were headed to the barn where Barnabas Underwood liked to spend his time.

"Of course! Now Barny; he's the one who needs to be ready! Bit of a quivering quail, he is. Needs to man up. " Rixon responded confidently. It was finally time; Barnabas was sixteen years old, and Rixon's excitement was practically pouring over. It had been hard enough to corner him; Chauncey had watched over the boy like a hawk, keeping him from any sign of myself or any other danger. He'd slipped up, deciding to go to court and leaving the boy behind. Henry was less than a decent father to him; in fact, he'd stopped acknowledging him in person when Elizabeth died, although he still sent money as required. As a guardian, he was incredibly remiss, allowing the boy to wander around as an urchin. For a sixteen year old, Barnabas was a little naïve, and a slight coward at that. Rixon had plans to use his nature to his advantage.

Rixon opened the barn doors, and Barnabas looked up from his book, sitting in his pile of hay.

_Have at it, _I told Rixon, becoming invisible in the shadow of the now closed doors.

Needing no other words, Rixon began to charge the boy.

"Hey! Who are you, and what do you want—"Barnabas couldn't finish before Rixon had lifted him up by his collar.

"Well now, it seems a proper introduction is in order. Allow me to start." Rixon threw the boy into the wall, and before Barnabas could run, he was choke holding him on the wall. "I'm your worst nightmare, Nephil."

Barnabas' eyes widened. "You…you're a fallen angel! Chauncey warned me about you! He said that you would try to steal my soul!" he choked out. Rixon laughed evilly.

"You apparently didn't listen to him very well, and now, yes, your soul _is_ mine. Now, there are a few words that I need you to say. Say them, and I'll let you leave here without too much trouble. Do you understand me?" When Barnabas didn't answer, Rixon clocked him across his jaw, leaving a bright welt.

"_Do you understand me?" _he shouted again. Barnabas nodded quickly, and Rixon let him fall to the ground.

"The words are 'Lord, I become your man'. Get on one knee and say them. Now!" he commanded. Instead of complying, a whimpering Barnabas began to crawl towards the door. Rolling his eyes, Rixon quickly kicked him in the chest, sending him flying into one of the wooden beams. He continued to beat the boy, and blood began to spray around the ground. I couldn't help but be slightly disturbed; it seemed like Rixon was enjoying the boy's pain more than he wanted the oath.

_Rixon, the oath! He can't swear the oath to you if he's unconscious! _I warned.

_He'll live, _Rixon said back, turning to face me.

I couldn't believe it, but I felt bad for the boy. I knew what it was like to first make a Nephil swear fealty; the power and the hunger for that chance to feel, but considering all he'd suffered (not to mention he was a little slow in the head), I felt like he didn't need this much persuasion. Maybe I was just feeling merciful; maybe I wanted to lighten the load on my soul.

_Chauncey will return tomorrow; I'd rather do this without any conflict. We've waited too long for you to mess up now. Besides, you don't want to look hideous on your first Cheshvan, do you? _

Nodding, he lifted a bloody Barnabas to one knee. Gurgling, Barnabas was able to whisper the oath.

"Excellent job, boy! I expect you here by Cheshvan." Rixon said happily, dropping him to the ground.

Barnabas gurgled out something else while we were leaving.

"What?" Rixon yelled back.

"You…you killed my mother…Chauncey said that you forced him to kill her…" he whispered.

Rixon threw his head back and laughed. _He seems to have me mixed up for you. _

When we got far away enough from the barn, I dropped the invisibility.

"Did you have to be so cruel? It took me much less time to force Chauncey." I said nonchalantly.

"He needs to fear me. He needs to know what'll happen if he doesn't follow my orders." He answered. I nodded, resigned.

**Cheshvan **

Having already possessed Chauncey, I'd waited for Rixon inside of the barn. Chauncey had come home and, in searching for Barnabas, saw the carnage that had occurred. He knew now that he wasn't alone in his servitude. Finally, I saw "Rixon" walking up the way.

"How does it feel?" I asked him. Rixon was in wonder.

"It…it _feels_…it feels amazing…" he murmured. I smiled at him.

"I know. Completely worth it." Rixon nodded eagerly.

"Let's go! There's a woman with these beautiful flaxen locks that I can't _wait _to bed!" With that, he ran into town.

At the moment, I was waiting in the hall, enjoying my apple beer, waiting for Rixon to finish with the latest woman he'd bedded. I'd already had my share of women, and it was amusing to me that Rixon seemed to have no end. When they were finished, the woman opened the door and hurried out. I looked inside to see Rixon lying on the bed, smiling at nothing in particular.

"I only wanted to see if you were interested in cards tonight. I've got a feeling I'm going to get lucky tonight." I told him, leaning against the door frame.

"Lad, I know what getting lucky is like, and I'm not going to do it as well playing cards. You go on ahead, make us some money; I'll catch up with you tomorrow." He said, turning towards me.

"Make _us _some money? I don't think I should share when I'm the one doing all of the hard work, don't you think?" I said, laughing. Rixon stretched, unperturbed.

"Aw, have a heart, Patch. I'm enjoying my first Cheshvan. Besides, money can be made year round, but feeling the soft skin of a lass; I've got two weeks. I don't know how you can resist."

I smirked. "I have excellent self-control."

"All the better to play cards and make _us_ money with." He rubbed his hands together. "Now, do you mind calling another one of the wenches in here? There's plenty of them out there; I prefer blondes, but any one will do."

I laughed at the eager and hungry face he had on. "Don't strain yourself."

After pointing one of the women into the room, I closed the door and left the building.

**Go ahead...go ahead, I know you were thinking it...for a moment there, you almost uttered the blasphemous words "poor Hank", didn't you? 0o0 ! It's kind of hard; I don't know who I'm rooting for, considering both of them turn out to be bad guys...what'll you do? Lol his meanness to Nephils aside, I love the idea of Rixon being very voracious when it comes to women. Both of them, yes, but Rixon's got a little less...finesse. **


	19. Chapter 18

**So, I was angling for us to see into the depth of Patch's love for Nora; I hope I did well! Enjoy! **

Chapter Eighteen

"I don't know whether I should celebrate or mourn you being here." I told them honestly.

When I opened the door, we'd all just stared at one another for a few moments. I'd been asking for brotherhood, and they'd shown up. _If only everything could be that easy_. Finally, I'd grasped them both. At the moment, we were sitting in the living room, just like old times, catching up. Nehemiah was banished after blaspheming the entire Archangel council for showing a growing lack of concern for the quality of those in charge, and then told them off about my faulty trial. It'd been the only time he'd ever lost his temper. Too bad I hadn't been there to see it; he rarely didn't follow the rules. Ezra was banished because he'd refused to rip out the wings of his other best friend; the regret of tearing out mine was hard enough for him to bear.

"Might as well celebrate." Ezra answered. "So, you go by 'Patch' now?"

"Yeah, how did you hear that?" I questioned him.

"We weren't supposed to be watching you, but well…sometimes we did anyway. You've had one hell of an experience down here so far." He commented.

"Well, it's a nickname that stuck. From an old friend." I told him. Uncomfortable at the thought, I changed the topic. "Where are you both staying now? There are still plenty of places empty in the labyrinths; completely wiped clean a few years back. I'm sure there are some that are furnished."

Ezra nodded. "We found some before we came to visit you." He paused a moment. "Definitely interesting; what you caused."

"What Nora Grey caused," Nehemiah commented. I turned to see him holding a picture of Nora. He'd been walking around the room, observing things. "Killing three Nephilim and eradicating devilcraft. Impressive for one so young and inexperienced."

"Yes, she's gone through and accomplished many things that no one ever thought possible." I agreed proudly.

"She is very beautiful, and you've found yourself another troublemaker. You've gone through much for this Nephil woman." He teased. I held my hand out for the picture. She was smiling widely in a green bikini I'd bought for her, hair everywhere. It was one of my favorites.

"The most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and life's no fun without a little trouble." I said. Nehemiah smiled while Ezra snickered.

"Most beautiful, it could be debated. Though, it's definitely new; a fallen angel and a Nephil. Only you would do something so against the cosmos." Ezra said, laughing.

"You are a different man from the one who fell. She has changed you for the better." Nehemiah noted. He finally sat down on the couch.

"I sensed there was a conflict in here when I entered; is everything okay?" he asked, concerned. I shook my head.

"Nora's upset at me. Talking things out isn't a specialty of hers; she has a tendency to storm out when things don't go her way."

"She sounds impulsive." Nehemiah said. I laughed humorlessly.

"She's very impulsive."

"Why'd you fight?" asked Ezra. I explained to them how she'd been acting, and how things had been so far in the day.

"That's no good. You are still secretive. Maybe worse." Nehemiah said sternly.

"Probably."

"Why are you struggling to tell her?"

I exhaled heavily, placing my head between my hands. "I'm afraid, okay?" The pent up words began to spill out. "I've done some fucked up things in my life; things that I regret and wish that I could take back. Horrible things simply because I was feeling a whim, or because I reacted, or because I wanted my way. There are things I've done that have directly affected Nora's life, although I never knew they would. I'm not a good person, Nehemiah. I don't think I ever have been. I'm just _better _now than I was. What if what I've done overrides that? I'm terrified that she'll shy away from me; that she'll..." _leave and…_ "I love her too much to risk her…"By the end of my words I was staring at my hands, and all I could see was red on them. I shook my head, getting rid of the image.

Nehemiah was thinking of how to respond, when surprisingly, Ezra spoke up, clearing his throat.

"You should probably tell her the truth anyway. I know that it's scary, but if you keep it away from her, she's only going to believe that you're still as bad as the man who did all of those terrible things. You should trust her. You've changed for the better, like you said. That has to count. We can even back you up, if you need it. You've been together long enough; if she's not oblivious, she's guessed that you've got quite a past. If she loves you as much as you love her, she'd at least make an effort to understand. From what we've seen, you've been through too much together to _not_ give each other some sort of chance." When he was finished, he tugged at his collar, and smiled widely.

"Well, shit." I said, raising my eyebrows as his wise words sunk in. Nehemiah laughed.

"He's grown quite wise since you left. _Patch, _you've always been a good man at heart. Flawed, yes. Troubled, very much so. Have you made mistakes? Some terrible ones." Ezra chucked a pillow at him, which he deftly deflected. "But you aren't innately _bad. _If you were, you wouldn't have changed to become better. You wouldn't _need _to be worth it. If this Nora Grey can't see and at least respect that, then maybe she isn't as deserving of your truths as you think."

"I was always wise, you ass. I just messed around with losers like you all the time." Ezra retorted.

While they bantered, I began to think about my friends' words. Leaning back into the couch, I sighed.

"Have you always been honest with her?" Ezra asked.

"Yes. If there was anything that I felt she didn't need to know, I just never brought it up. But if she's asked, I've told the truth. This is the one thing that I don't want to bring up, or answer."

"Maybe it would be good for you to acknowledge your past. You can't outrun it, and you can't hide from it. If you can't accept _yourself, _then how can another? If you can face what you've done, then she has no excuse not to. You can do it together." Nehemiah said wisely. I thought about that quietly as I lifted Nora's picture back into my lap.

"You're right. I'll wait until she comes home, and I'll tell her the truth."

They smiled, and Ezra raised a thumb.

"You are too forgiving, my old friends. If only everyone were so open-minded."

Still, their words had given me some solace, and I felt ready to face Nora when she returned.

* * *

><p><strong>Chauncey's Diary<strong>

_I found Katharine's body this morning. There was alarm coming from the town, and luckily the fire was put out before it spread to the other homes and fields. Despite the excessive damage, the body was only slightly charred; I could clearly see the blood on the wood planks, and the large amount of puncture wounds to her body. She was stabbed before this fire, and had apparently died in agony. I wondered if it had been the wounds, or the fire, that had killed her. Whatever it was, she was murdered as if she were no less than a pig meant for slaughter._

_I knew it was the fallen angel. It had to be. It was a hateful, evil act, and I knew that it was meant only for me. He told me that she was a murderess, and only wanted me for my money. I was quite aware of that, but I would have never married the woman, regardless of her skill in bed. It still hurt me when I saw what he was capable of doing. The worst part is that no one knew of him. Not one person._

_He said that he's coming back for me. I don't know how any of this works; all I know is that he can force me to do his bidding, and that it is humiliating. My services for an entire fortnight! What the hell does he need for two weeks!?_

_I will find this boy. I will find him, and he will suffer. The accusations he made to me were repulsive; suggesting that my mother slept with a demon. I have decided that I do not believe what he told me about my family; there must be some other explanation for all of this, and I will get to the bottom of it._

* * *

><p><strong>Nora's POV<strong>

I looked up from the diary, shivering. I couldn't believe what I'd been reading. Chauncey's life had obviously changed the moment that Patch walked into it. I was upset by the violence suggested. I knew that Patch was deadly, but reading proof of it was another thing together. Chauncey only wrote about things that were involved with the possessions. I knew that he was horrified by the things Patch had done with his body, and of what else he could do to him.

"I think…I think I need to read more of this on my own, Vee." I said, gathering the journals.

Vee shivered next to me. "Sure babe, yeah. Make sure you tell me more about what happens. It's too eerie reading this."

"Tell me about it." I'd reached the door when Vee stopped me.

"You sure about taking those home? Patch will be less than thrilled when he catches you reading his dirt." She said, worried. While she'd warmed up to my relationship with Patch, she still thought he was slightly psycho and could snap at any time.

"He won't catch me. I'm going to take them to my mother's and hide them there. Besides, Patch would never hurt me." Vee rose her eyebrows, indicating what we'd read so far. "He's a different man now. Besides, we don't know if he actually killed that woman; it's Chauncey's speculation."

Vee shook her head, but let me leave. My mother had remarried (a nice, normal man; this time I made sure) and was able to keep the farmhouse. As such, my room remained the same, and I climbed into the window to hide the journals in my drawer. As I drove home, (it was late, 3 am) I couldn't help but wonder if Patch's own story would corroborate. Assuming he finally decided to tell me. The problem that I was currently having was how I was going to face him when I knew everything. I made the decision to wait until I was finished reading the diaries to ask him again. That way, I'd be prepared. He'd told me more than once that he was a changed man, and I knew that I'd be able to love and accept him, regardless of what he'd done.

Right?

**Right? Of course she'll understand... right? :O **

**I have to say, Chauncey's bit looks way cooler on my computer; I wish there were fonts on here. Oh well. How am I doing? Please continue reviewing; I appreciate the support I've been receiving, it's really awesome! (And Dallas, I don't think you saying how you like it so much is bad; stop downing yourself, okay?) **

**Feel free to leave me an idea or two for Jev's next adventure or something; it keeps me out of writer's block, and gets you guys more chapters more quickly!**


	20. Chapter 19

**Answers to questions: First, yes, I do write these on paper before I type them; it's where I can organize my ideas. Thing is, this is the last chapter I have written out; I have to write some more, and with college approaching and me at a tiny bit of a beginning stage with ideas, I'm not sure if I'll be getting them out quite as quickly. Second, Nehemiah is pronounced "knee-ya-my-a". As I said before, ideas would be great! Feel free to post anything you think would be interesting; I'm willing to incorporate what people want to see!**

Chapter Nineteen

**Nora's POV**

I walked inside quietly. I'd hoped that Patch wouldn't be home, but I sensed someone was there as soon as I walked in. It was silent, so I assumed he was asleep. Good; that'd save me an awkward confrontation.

"Nora?" So much for that. I'd jumped, even though I knew he was home. I looked at him; he was shirtless, so I knew I'd woke him up. Despite that, his eyes were very alert, and they looked at me with worry. We stood a few feet from each other, and I felt the need to break the silence.

"So…uhh…about this evening…" I started.

"I need to talk to you about it." Patch said. He seemed so sincere, and I regretted that it was a little too late for it now. He began walking towards me, and I jumped back.

"See, about that," I said quickly. "I don't want to know anymore. Or at least right now. In fact, I don't want to talk about it at all. It's stressing me out, and so I've decided to wait until I think I'm ready. If you can accept that."

Patch was thrown off. "What?" I continued on in a rush.

"Nope. I'm fine. We need to both be ready, so…yeah!" I tried to walk past him, but he held his arm out to stop me.

"Nora, are you sure? Because it didn't seem that way. I think that—"

He stopped because I'd curled into him and kissed him full on the lips. I needed him to be distracted, but my reasoning began to slip as he responded eagerly. He was tense at first, but with a groan he loosened, pulling me close.

_You're confusing me, Angel, and that's pretty hard to do, _he thought, moving back to smirk at me.

_Oh? I think I made what I want very clear, _I answered back, smiling seductively. His dark eyes smoldered with desire.

I completely forgot what it was we were arguing about by the time he lifted me into his arms, and shut the bedroom door behind us.

* * *

><p>As I laid on the bed, I couldn't help but think about what I'd read. Certainly Patch had been a divine distraction for a few blissful hours, (I mean…that body!) but now that he was asleep, I was alone with my thoughts. To be fair, I genuinely wanted some sleep, to ignore all of the things I'd learned. I looked over at his sleeping body; he'd slipped up tonight. He'd fallen asleep on his chest, and his scars were in full view.<p>

Suddenly, I felt as tempted as Pandora had to open the box. _Just one little peek, _the devil on my shoulder said, _just to see if Chauncey's suspicions were correct. It won't hurt anybody. _

_No! _I told myself. I couldn't do it; it was disrespectful to Patch. I couldn't do that to him, no matter how much I wanted to know. After tonight, we might finally be getting along again, and I didn't want to mess that up. Sighing, I leaned over instinctively to place my arm over him, the way we normally slept. I didn't realize until it was too late that I'd forgotten that he wasn't on his back.

* * *

><p>I opened my eyes to see where I was. I seemed to be inside another woman's body, with Patch on top of me. He reached his hand down to caress my cheek, and then began to squeeze my neck. I couldn't breathe, and I began to panic; for some reason I could <em>feel <em>everything he did to her. He threw me onto the ground, and I watched in horror as he grabbed a knife and stuck it into the fire. When he came back, he began to stab her; no, stab _me. Over and over. _It was pure _agony, _and I was in so much pain that I couldn't calm down enough to leave the memory. When he finally stopped, I looked into his eyes. I heard Katharine Lowry gurgling something; begging for her life, but he began to shout at her.

"_This…this is your fault. Everything! I watched you; I desired what I thought was your righteousness, and beauty, and love! You are a temptress, a whore, a demonic snake, and I lost everything because of your wiles! You are a murderer, and a thief, and you don't deserve to breathe any longer. Not for the things that you've done. Not for the misery you've inflicted upon me!"_

In his words, in his _eyes, _I saw the pain, suffering, and anger that he felt. I'd never seen his emotions so stripped bare. It was a terrifying, demonic look, and it scourged my soul with its intensity. When I'd read what he'd done, I couldn't have fathomed that it'd be _anything_ like this.

When I came out of the vision, my eyes filled with tears. Breathing heavily, I knew that a full blown panic attack was coming on, so I quickly got out of bed, ran to the bathroom, and locked myself in.

* * *

><p><strong>Patch's POV<strong>

I awoke quickly as I felt Nora rush out of bed. I heard her slam the bathroom door behind her, and I hurried to see what the problem was.

"Angel? Angel, what's wrong?" I heard her hyperventilating from behind the door. "Do I need to come in?"

"_No!" _she cried. I was upset by her vehemence, but I didn't go in.

"What is it? Are you hurt?" I asked her quietly. It was a few beats before she answered.

"No, I…"

"What?"

"I had a bad dream." She finally answered flatly.

"What happened in the dream?" I asked, sitting on the other side of the door. I waited while she collected her breathing enough to answer.

"It…it was me. I dreamt of…of being locked in that terrible basement, and I couldn't get out…"

I frowned. She hadn't had dreams like those in a while. The memories had been erased from her mind, but they sometimes came back to her as nightmares. I used to hold her as they'd come back, calming her down, and staying in her dreams so that they wouldn't bother her. I'd thought those nightmares were over with years ago. I sensed that there was something else underlying her words.

"Angel? No one will _ever _hurt you again. They're gone, okay? Those monsters; it's all behind you. You survived, you fought, and you overcame. It's over; you are safe. And if anyone else ever dares try to harm you, they'll have me to deal with. No one will ever touch you, I swear! " I vehemently told her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're the strongest woman I've ever met, you know that? Strongest and most beautiful." I heard her giggle quietly, although there was a hint of pain in it.

"Do you need me to come in?" I asked her gently. _Will you let me in? _I wanted to ask.

"No! No I'll…be okay…Just give me a minute." Slightly dejected, I folded my legs on the floor outside and waited.

Eventually, I heard the hyperventilating stop, and it was replaced with a small snore. Sighing, I stood up and grabbed the key from the top of the door frame. Unlocking the door, I found Nora asleep on the rug. I picked her up, and carried her back to the bed. Even in sleep, hair all around her face, the expression on her face was disturbed; mine didn't look so different.

I'd been prepared to talk to her. Thinking she wouldn't be home until later the next day, I'd gone to sleep. She arrived home earlier, and I thought that it would be best to get it over with, but then she'd surprised me by kissing me. And I melted, happy to oblige, relieved that she wasn't angry. I don't think either of us knew how much we missed the other until I had her in bed. It had been amazing. She didn't even try to touch my scars while I was on her, not that I'd thought about it in strewn up in desire. The night had ended perfectly.

So something else was up. I'd accidentally fallen asleep face down (I'd been pretty exhausted), before she did. Nora would have probably went to sleep the way she normally did, except for this time, her head would have fallen onto my scars. She may have started off seeing her old nightmares, but I had a terrible feeling that a horrifying memory of my own may have slipped into them. Nora had a tendency to see exactly into what I'm hiding, so it was only a matter of _what_ she had seen.

**Please enjoy, and review! It motivates me when I receive them, honestly! I think I might wait to type some more until I get about 40 reviews. And some ideas in those reviews too, I love ideas. Thanks! **


	21. Chapter 20

**Okay, so: First, I'm sorry for posting so late! I'll try to keep up my posting, although I do need to focus on my schoolwork. Second, this one's a bit of a transition chapter, so sorry if it's not as long as you would like! I actually had to do a good chunk of research for this chapter; couldn't go posting wrong history. I looked up the image of The Fall of Phaeton, I have to say, it looks different than I'd imagined (I didn't even know it was real), and I figured "If the Mona Lisa is still kickin', I'm sure he would have the money to take care of his painting!" **

Chapter Twenty

**Past- 1870**

Rixon and I were on a train back to the countryside. He'd convinced me that we needed some fun, that I brooded too much, and it was "becoming a pain in his arse". For a century we'd owned our own small townhomes, away from our Nephils' lives. For Rixon and I, it made handling our own business (mainly trading in secrets and any other dirty work shady humans wanted to keep quiet) much easier. Rixon had had enough of seeing the inside, and took me to London for a week. "Brotherly bonding", he called it.

I had to admit, it made me relax, taking my mind off of bloody bodies, broken kneecaps, and scandalous secrets. We went to the casinos, where my skills and strategy made me a small fortune, and where Rixon was able to release his adrenaline on a few drunken losers in brawls outside of the building. I was able to collect some items of my own; scientific papers, poetry, boxes of books (unbeknownst to many, I like reading; Arthur Conan Doyle was a favorite). Rixon teased me for taking so much, but in reality, I'd never had access to so many new things in one place. We'd gone to a circus, which was interesting enough with its large elephants and dancing women and freaks.

One day, we visited an art exhibit, and I looked at all of the pieces and remakes of art that I'd seen throughout my banishment on Earth. Two of them caught my eye. _The Fall of Phaeton, _by Rubens. Next to it, _The Fall of Icarus. _Bemusedly, I couldn't help but wonder if the artist had known any, or was, fallen. I was familiar with both stories; the story of a boys who, in their pride, disobeyed the rules and were struck down by the consequences. I found myself relating to them both, more so Phaeton, because he'd tried gotten in over his head when he tried to control something he never could. Instead of seeing him in the image, I saw myself. Finding the owner of the exhibit, I asked him how much he wanted for the painting.

"It's not for sale, I'm sorry sir. There are few remakes of this painting, and my exhibit is one of few that has one." He was so pompous with this declaration; it annoyed me.

"Right, well, _you'll be giving me this for free, and I want it safely wrapped and stored in my hotel room by tomorrow night." _I , the man agreed and took my card. Content, I found Rixon, and we ended up paying for a tintype of ourselves. It amazed me that, in a day or so, we were able to place our blurry image onto a piece of paper. Just a century ago, people were still being painted, and that took weeks!

Finally, Rixon had access to all of his prostitutes while I enjoyed a lavish dinner at a bar. Surprisingly, the touch of a woman was no longer something I was interested in. I couldn't feel it regardless, and that made it cheap to me. Rixon somehow still found reason within himself to indulge.

"What, are you looking for one of these prudes to love?" he asked me, once. I'd shaken my head no.

"I don't have a good history with women. None of them have ever been worthy of my presence. Besides, what's the point when they'll die, and I'll continue living?" I replied.

"Ha! That is true. Now he's a philosopher. Reading all those poems and stories are getting to your head, Patch; next you'll be speaking in prose!" he said, laughing. Laughing with him, I shook off the childish slight. No, I wasn't concerned about women in my life; they only represented death to me.

I found it much easier to fit in, with my self-control. Rixon, on the other hand, wasn't a large fan of the Victorian era. Lately it was harder to find prostitutes and alcohol without suffering the constant backlash of the societal hierarchy. Now he sat on the train, going on about how "unfair" it was.

"All these women in tight collars, looking like old maids. Really! Is my sex life their business anyway? Not to mention that frump of a Queen, barging in and repressing us all…if I want sex, I should be able to have it! If I want to get raging drunk, I can!" He paused, only to take a drink from the flask that he made invisible with his power. "All of these humans think it, but they hide behind their rules! How much do you want to bet that some guy knows all about the science of frogs or something, but can't properly satisfy a woman? All this progress, and they forget a natural act! All these poor women, suffering from a lack of real love, and not to mention the men whose parts must be _shrinking_ from lack of use…"

I snickered as the people seated across the row from us stared at him wide eyed. It must have been a sight; Rixon and I were dressed subtly but well. I had on a trim black coat, with black slacks and a white shirt completely buttoned, with a red silk handkerchief in my coat pocket. I sat very still, reading my paper. Rixon had his brown jacket off, his white shirt with the first two buttons undone, and looked very agitated, raging against society and very close to blaspheming Queen Victoria.

"Stop complaining. Once, you would have had to trudge through garbage and shit to get to your women. Once, you rolled around in dirty old taverns with them as well. And to think, you called me the 'pretty boy'." I teased, not looking up. The paper told me about America, and how, with their Civil War finished, they were rising from the dust. It seemed like an intriguing investment. Chauncey no longer lived with his descendants, preferring to watch from afar. It made keeping up the façade of aging easier. Some of them decided, before the Revolutionary War, that they'd migrate to the colony of Virginia. Chauncey was able to swipe some letters, all of them describing prosperity through the generations, at least up until 1865. I wasn't sure if he planned on joining them or not; he was an avid Tory and abhorred the loss of America back in their war for independence. He'd seemed to have gotten over it, which was interesting as he rarely changed his behaviors.

"All the pretty lasses with collars up to their chins, covering up the beauties underneath…the clean, bonny ones are all hard to get, seeing as they're so '_indulged' _ with this society!" Rixon continued on in his rant.

His words faded to the background as I continued reading. I continued thinking about Chauncey and his descendants again. Maybe we ought to make a permanent visit…

* * *

><p>"Where in the <em>fuck <em>is Chauncey?!" I hissed. Upon our return, Chauncey and Barnabas' homes were devoid of their belongings. All that was left was large pieces of furniture. I lifted a small table and threw it into the wall, enraged at the realization that he must have been planning this, and waiting until he knew I'd be gone to enact it. In anger and desperation, I began to go through everything, looking for clues as to where he might be. Rixon appeared in the doorway, a look of pure Hell on his features.

"_I'll kick the teeth out of the fucking Nephil's mouth!" _he shouted.

"Search for something useful! Anything that can tell us where they've gone!" I commanded, impatient with his rage. Cursing, he began to scour the home. Two hours later, I entered Chauncey's office; if there was anything important, it would be there. I had no luck as I aggressively pulled out drawers and threw them onto the ground. Empty, all empty…Sighing angrily, I kicked open the door to the closet. Something floated into my vision, and I looked onto the floor. A small newspaper clipping lay on the floor; probably missed in the haste to leave. I lifted it up, scanning its contents thoughtfully. It was about New York City, and the riches that were beginning to line the businesses' pockets that were centered there. Something clicked, and I knew exactly where to start.

Chauncey Langeais was really pushing it. After the incident with Elizabeth Underwood, for centuries we'd had a "peaceful" relationship. Besides a few harsh Cheshvan possessions, he'd seemed to realize his place, and I'd stopped bothering him in turn. He no longer married or had any children, so there was no one for me to disturb with his disappearances. I hadn't hurt his descendants. He'd grown prosperous, and I'd taken advantage of that prosperity. Part of this, I realized, was my fault. I had become complacent, comfortable with my situation in life; I hadn't seen this coming due my own lack of diligence, which he'd taken advantage of quite boldly. _Obviously, he'd forgotten who he served._ He was messing with the _wrong person, _the person that he _knew _could do him and those around him harm. It took him nearly two centuries to gain the nerve to defy me, and I would make sure I returned it in kind.

Lifting the paper, I sauntered slowly into the main room, where Rixon had taken to breaking the furniture against the walls. Seeing me leaning against the door frame, he tossed me a pipe. I caught it between my fingers, and observed it. Mahogany wood, with gold trimming, smelling sour; it was Chauncey's favorite tobacco pipe.

"All I could find. You?" he grunted. I fanned the clipping in the air.

"You miss the old times, right? You hate this place, and are looking for something new?" I asked him lightly.

"Aye…" he answered, not following me. My face twisted into a sinister look as I showed him the scrap of paper.

"Maybe America will suit your tastes. New York City, to be exact."

Once he finished reading it, his face twisted into a mirror image of mine. I thought only briefly of the suffering that Barnabas would go through when Rixon found him.

"You should probably go get your feather. Among other things you need to pack."

"It's in my reliquary. It's all I'll need; I can get new things after rippin' Barnabas a new one. Only one who needs to pack is you." I raised my eyebrows at the irony of his hiding place, but let it go.

"I suppose it doesn't matter. Besides, this trip isn't _about us,_" I said, grinning evilly as I flipped the pipe. "Poor Chauncey will be missing his favorite pipe. We should return it to him."

**So, what do you think? Finally, we're heading to 'Murica! Oh, and I was surprised to see the amount of reviews from last time! Thank you so much! Especially Patchlover212; you weren't playing with that review button! I'd like to reach 55 before I post the next chapter (it's pretty much finished already, just have to edit it a bit); lets see what we can do! **


	22. Chapter 21

**I just couldn't help myself, I had to post it! Oh, and this is going to seem random right now but it'll make sense after you read the chapter: I still love pasta, and I hope I don't ruin pasta for anyone else!**

Chapter Twenty-One

**Past-1872 **

Chauncey and I stared one another down from across the room, breathing heavily. Both of us were covered in blood.

It hadn't gone completely as I'd expected, finding Chauncey. Rixon and I finally made it across the ocean, and began to search for the next two years, finding out everything about the new culture and how to blend in. It was all new terrain, and with the booming businesses, hit men would be in large demand. Rixon and I knew we'd find the perfect place in this society. Chauncey's determination amazed me at times; he was able to become a ghost investor for many famous men, and in the booming economy, was making thousands of dollars a month. It made finding him easy; we just needed to follow his paper trail. So it was in an ornate office that I finally cornered him.

He'd been looking over his shoulder for the past few weeks, sensing that I was nearby. He'd become so good at his outer image that he never showed it. Some nights, he would go into the underbelly of New York, and I wouldn't be able to follow him. I sensed a large amount of Nephilim there, and where there were large amounts of Nephilim, there would be large amounts of the fallen. I made it a note to find where they were located, and "introduce" Rixon and myself. The night that I followed him home, he seemed unusually calm, possessed of a thought that kept him from really focusing on where he was going. When he entered his home, I scaled my way to the window where his office was located and let myself in. I'd run surveillance on the home, so I was sure of where I was going. He walked into the room, and shut the door behind him, his back bare to me. He could sense me, I knew he could. For a moment, we stood there in silence.

Unlike our past clashes, Chauncey surprised me. When he looked at me, his face didn't change, but his eyes darkened. Before I could say a word, he threw himself at me from across the room. I was able to dodge him, clipping him in the jaw. Undaunted, he eventually tackled me to the ground, unveiling a dagger from his jacket, and stabbed me over and over in the chest. I couldn't feel any of the pain, but it was becoming aggravating. I grappled with him for the knife, and taking it from him, slashed him across his face. Grimacing in pain, he backed away, but still wanted to fight. Smiling harshly, I lifted my hand and beckoned him forward.

_Let's see what else you can do, _I mocked. His non-blacked eye widening, he jumped behind his desk and pulled a sword that was hanging from the wall. I laughed. He approached me quickly, swinging with the finesse of one that had centuries of practice. Only I, a fallen angel with just as much skill, would have been able to avoid his attacks. Still, he was able to slash me across my chest, and cut off my right hand. I was bemused as the blood spurted from the stump. Feeling triumphant, he tried to swing at my head, but I ducked underneath him, sweeping him off of his feet. As he lay on the ground, I used my foot to stomp on his ankle, breaking it. He shouted in pain, and I kicked him in his stomach across the room and into the wall.

As I began to charge at him, he panicked. In a swiftness that belied his pain, he pulled out a Smith and Wesson handgun from his pants and shot at me. Although I couldn't feel it, I sensed my body jerk back towards the ground, head first, flying into the opposite corner. There was a moment of silence as I slowly lifted myself off of the ground, and placed my hand on my face. When I pulled it back, it was covered in blood. The bastard shot me right in the head.

Staring at him, I could see myself through his mind. My face was completely red from blood, my hair matted with it, and part of my skull was on the ground. My shirt was soaked through with both of our blood, and I was missing a hand. I also saw how he realized that, no matter what he did, I couldn't feel it, and the pain wouldn't inhibit me the way his inhibited him. We were both healing, slowly, but neither of us seemed to want to fight anymore. Chauncey because his nerve was leaving him with the pain, and I because I needed to be, well, patched up quickly.

_I'm impressed, _I told him through mindspeak. I really was- fighting for it made everything that much more interesting. I couldn't help but be amused. _You've never put up such a valiant fight. _

He grimaced, because scowling was too painful. Crawling, he lifted himself onto his desk, and stared down at me.

"I…_hate you…_and I _will _get you for what you've done…to me, to Barnabas, to anyone else you've ever hurt…" he threatened through pained breaths. "I can't be killed... I know this now. I've met others like me, and they've taught me…" He coughed as blood fell from his mouth, along with some teeth.

"Please. Those sewer rats? They obviously haven't taught you well enough." He hadn't even had the sense to go for my wing scars. "After an oath sworn under Heaven? You, nor any of these Nephilim you speak of, will be safe any time soon. As for Barnabas, I'd hate to see what Rixon's doing with him at the moment." Rixon had mentioned something along the lines of "bleeding him like a dead pig". Chauncey growled at the idea of his protégé's suffering. I stood up, gaining my balance. I was _actually exhausted_ by our little skirmish. Moving slowly, I grabbed my hand and skull off of the ground. They'd grow back, but for a macabre reason, I wanted to keep them. As I approached the door, I heard him move again.

"_Wait," _he hissed. I turned, looking at him. His face had twisted into something sinister, and for a brief moment, I was disturbed.

"You may not feel, _Patch, _but I will make you suffer. The way you have taken from me, I will take from you. I can wait. We have an eternity. _You will slip. _One day, something or someone will actually mean something to you, and when it does, _it will suffer in your place. You will beg me for mercy, and I will not give it to you. _One day, _I _will stand over _you, _and I will _watch you cower!" _He said this with such fire that for a moment I believed he'd actually do it. And then I realized what his entire plan depended upon, and laughed quietly.

"When will you understand? Almost three centuries, and you still _don't get it. _I have your _soul, _Chauncey. Everything you have, everything you want, is _mine." _I hissed._ "_You will _never _win, because there will _never _be _anything_ that I possess that will mean more to me. What I _do_ possess, you can't take back. _Your soul is mine, you are mine, and that will oath will never be broken." _I turned from him and slowly began limping out. My last words were spoken halfway to myself.

"What else do I really require?"

* * *

><p><strong>Nora's POV<strong>

I hadn't eaten, or slept well, since that horrible memory last night.

Looking at myself in the mirror in the morning, I'd seen huge dark circles under my eyes, as if it'd been days and not just one night where I hadn't slept. I couldn't keep anything down; I felt too nauseous. Patch hadn't been there in the morning, and it was just as well as I didn't know if I wanted to see him.

I kept seeing it. Throughout the day, at work, flashes of the pain kept coming back to me, that I was being _stabbed_, and I'd have to collect myself. My coworkers asked me more than once if I was okay when they saw me outside of my cube, and I would put on a smile and say that I was "fine, just cramps". Couldn't just go telling people that the love of my life was a literal lady-killer, now could I? At some moments, I'd have to curl up, telling myself that the pains I kept feeling in my chest and stomach were just mental. That I needed to get myself together, and that there had to be a perfectly logical explanation. Checking myself in my phone's reflection, I groaned at how crazy I looked. My outfit was fine, but my face…I looked like a deer in the headlights, and a zombie deer at that. Turning it on, I called Vee.

"How's it going, babe?" she asked cheerfully.

"Not so hot, to be honest. Do you mind bringing me some lunch? I don't think I should be driving at the moment." I rasped.

"You sound awful. Sure, no problem, I'll bring you something. Might just take you home, too. You sit at our regular spot, and I'll be there in thirty minutes."

I smiled. "You're the best, Vee."

"I know, babe."

Half an hour later, she approached the table. Placing the boxes of food down, she felt my head.

"You're burning up; maybe you shouldn't have gone to work today." She said, looking worried. I shook my head.

"I didn't want to stay home." Finishing our conversation in mindspeak, I relayed to her the memory that I'd seen the night before.

"Um…well, uh…" she struggled for words. "You're probably sick due to stress. That certainly is a lot to take in. I knew he was crazy." She muttered the last part.

"There's got to be a reason for it…a reason for all of it." I said. Vee looked like she had something to say, but dropped it.

"Well…here, eat something. See if you can keep it down. If not, I'm taking you home. And by home, I mean Blythe's house." She said, gesturing at the box in front of me. Nodding, I opened the box.

It was pasta, marinara sauce, with chopped tomatoes and grated cheese. It looked…_it looked like rotting skin and intestines and chunks of blood…_

_Nope, nope, nope!_ With that, went my composure. I began breathing heavily, almost dry heaving. I fell out of my chair, and collapsed onto the ground.

"Shit! Nora!" Vee cried, rushing over to me.

"I can't…breathe…_Vee_!" I struggled, looking at her with fear in my eyes. Even though I knew I wasn't going to die, I was still terrified to succumb.

"Somebody, call 911! _You, _what the hell are you doing? _Do something!_" she shouted. She turned back to me when someone had their phone out. "It's going to be all right. Babe, are you still anemic?" she asked me.

Was I? I hadn't had an issue with my anemia for years. I also hadn't had a reason to. But today, I hadn't eaten, drank anything, or slept well, and I was hyperventilating with a fever. So I was probably suffering an anemic attack as well. I nodded, still breathing heavy. Vee quickly flipped me onto my back, and soon paramedics were placing me onto a gurney.

"Vee…_Vee!"_ I cried out.

"I'll go get your medicine, then I'll be right there at the hospital!" She called out before they shut the doors on her.

How strange that, even when I was terrified of his past, I still instinctively called out for him.

_Patch…_

* * *

><p><strong>Chauncey's Diary<strong>

I fought the fallen angel today. I felt…I felt _alive! _For once, he couldn't simply frighten me into submission. I was able to chop pieces of him apart, and although he was able to hurt me, it wasn't in vain! Normally he would do something to me, or my family, but he cannot! I have no more family, and he cannot risk my lifestyle without risking his own! I actually _won _today! For centuries I've been complacent, not fighting; waiting; praying that he would leave my family alone. However, when I learned that he would be leaving, I knew that I had to take action. Barnabas agreed with me; I did it for his sake, as his fallen angel abuses him beyond reason. I knew that he would find me in the end…but I knew that this time, I would be ready!

I had to mindtrick the servants into cleaning up the blood in my office. I cut up a piece of the board with his blood staining it, and I'm keeping it. It is proof to me that I'm not the only one whose blood will spill.

I've had enough, and so have the other Nephilim. I don't know what's happened to Barnabas, and I pray that he is strong enough to continue to fight. He has grown much nerve during his servitude; he's no longer the cowering boy whose mother I…well, I can no longer ignore what my destiny is. I will find a way to help all of us, to save us from the fallen. My power is increasing; the angel seems to forget that. I've waited so long, two centuries of perceived peace, working on myself, making myself ready. The other Nephilim, they look up to me. I will find even more of us, and find out all I can.

I will hurt that fallen angel. _Patch_. I will use his name, as fear of a name only makes one more afraid of the thing itself. My honor depends upon it. He may not be able to feel, but his lack of vigilance only shows me that he is capable of distraction. One day; a prize horse, or a boat, or a woman; I will find his weakness, and I WILL make him regret everything that he's done.

**Uhoh. Chauncey means business! I just felt like he needed his chance to fight back (don't worry ladies, the gorgeous Patch will be up and running soon!). I also wanted to write that bloody chapter. So? Tell me how you like it with your awesome reviews! I really appreciate them; I love reading them throughout the day; makes me feel like people actually like what I can do. **


	23. Chapter 22

**So, I was thinking that Patch needed a little redemption. Show a little of his soft side.**

Chapter Twenty-Two

**Past- 1930's New York**

It was dark, and I was in a shadier section of town, but I wasn't fearful. In fact, I was humming to myself as I walked down the street. I wore simple yet refined clothes; black slacks with a black shirt, and I dared anyone to rob me. Looking at my surrounding only reminded me of how things were before the depression.

Chauncey and Barnabas (who finally healed from the "terrible fire") were still having their machinations with the Nephilim of the underworld of New York. We decided to let them; there was nothing they could hide from us, nor anything they could do to break the oath. Instead, Rixon and I, looking for fun, immersed ourselves in organized crime. When we were in New York, we were mafia hit men. When that got dull, we went down south to run moonshine. We definitely enjoyed working with the moonshiners more. They used cars to run the moonshine to other places, but the rundown car wasn't as it seemed. In fact, it would _speed _past any cops who tried to catch up. At first, it was just getting away from the cops that made Rixon and I drive our cars with such passion, but then it became _fun. _Along with some of the other runners, men and women alike, we would make bets as to who would get to the trading place first. Kicking the car into high gear, we would race one another through the dusty streets and fields, outrunning the police, hurling playful insults at the person that you would pass up. It was some of the most fun in my life, and I missed it whenever I drank a glass of alcohol at some boring New York collection of people.

I laughed quietly as I walked. Today had been a lazy day; there were no mafias that required my presence; no one needed me to kill anyone at the moment. Prohibition was over; even the government decided they needed alcohol to get through the Depression. I decided to just walk; get my energy out. As I was walking, a little girl, only about thirteen or fourteen, snuck out under the street light. She had on a cloak, so that no one would see her, but I'd already seen her earlier today. She had been trying to take a bottle of medicine off of a shelf without being seen. She was quick but an amateur, and the shop keeper was very observant. He also had a reputation for shooting without thinking. Before he could turn around to see her, I pushed over a glass jar very nonchalantly. What can I say; like calls to like, and I was feeling mischievous. As he cursed me out and threatened me with his gun, I smiled back when the girl smiled, quickly grabbed the bottle and ran. His face was priceless when I responded to his threats with "I'd like to see you do it."

"Stop running, you bastard little thief!" a cop called. Panicking, and without a place in the shadows to hide in, she ran, and tripped over some upturned cobblestones. She dropped her basket, which the chasing cop leaned over and grabbed from her.

"Give it back, you rotten cop!" she yelled, getting up and reaching for the basket. He pushed her onto the ground, and leafed through her things.

"Newspaper, some coins, a bottle of medicine, bread…there's no way that you bought these things with your measly amount of money!" he sneered and hit her again. "There's a place for little thieves like you, and it's called _prison." _

"But…I _need it, _my friend, she's _sick…_" the girl plead. Quickly, she pulled out a knife and swung at the officer, but he grabbed her hand and twisted it until the knife fell. In her rush, her hood fell down, and I saw her features. Caramel skin, with thick black hair placed into a plait, and brown eyes that sparked as she tried to hide her failure with pride.

"And assault on an officer? You're really going to prison now! Although first," he said, licking his lips, "I might enjoy you first. Pretty for a black girl, aren't you?" As he reached for her, she kicked him hard in between his legs. He caught her leg as he fell to the ground, and when he rose, quickly got out his baton.

"Stupid little brat! You'll deserve every second of this!" She flinched as he raised the baton.

I caught it before it even fell.

"Now, sir, I'm going to give you three seconds to forget all about this, and go home." I said, smiling darkly.

"Who…who the hell are you? Get out of my way or I'll—"

"_Three." _I punched him in the mouth, knocking him to the ground. The little girl gasped with delight as she picked up her basket. I lifted him by his shirt.

"_Forget this, and go home, before things get any worse for you." _I commanded. Dazed, and clutching his jaw, he ran the opposite direction. I turned to look at the girl, who was still watching me.

"Come on, let me walk you home." I offered. She lifted her chin.

"I thank you for helpin' me, but I can walk home on my own!" she said in a high voice. I smiled slightly at her spirit.

"I'm sure, but can you avoid any more punks like that? You are out pretty late; no one to stop somebody hurting you."

"Why should I trust you?"

"I could have let that corrupt officer rape and beat you. I didn't, and I rarely show this much concern. Now- it's much safer, and I sense you have a long walk." I answered. She flinched at my frankness, and thought about it. Nodding, she began walking. I followed next to her.

"So, kid- what's your name, and what are you doing out so late?" I asked.

"Ella. And I'm no _kid, _I've been around for eleven years! And I work this late sewing clothes at the factory. I had to take a detour home tryin' to avoid that cop."

Talking to Ella had a strangely calming effect on me. Just a child, she was savvy, talkative and her confidence in the face of life was adorable. A factory worker, she'd snuck off from work during the middle of the day to buy some bread and find a newspaper. When I'd spotted her, she was taking some medicine for an older woman that lived in a tenement next to hers. The cop following her had been leering at her for some time; when he got the police report from the store owner, he'd used it as an excuse to follow her.

"I hate that mean old store owner. Not only is he a bastard, but he's a cheat as well! I could never have afforded that medicine after even months of work! I don't know who he thinks he is, selling at prices like that around where poor people live…" she exclaimed.

She was so _innocent,_ despite her thievery today. In her childish confidence, she seemed so unshakeable. Life, miserable as it must have been for her, didn't seem to get to her. She also seemed very mischievous. She reminded me of myself, almost, when I had dreams and ideas.

"What's your name, and what are you doing out here? Your clothes suggest that you definitely didn't belong in that neighborhood!" she asked. I felt no harm in telling her.

"Patch. And what I do is nothing you need worry about." I told her. She scoffed at my answer.

"What? And what kind of name is that?"

"_My_ name." Rolling her eyes at my response, she didn't ask anymore.

"Why did you help me tonight?" Her tone had changed, and she was quieter, serious.

It made me pause. Why did I help her?

"I don't know. I wanted to do something…_good, _I suppose. Something right."

I hadn't been very good to anyone around me. The only person that I'd ever really let in since I was banished was Rixon. Besides that, I was a bad person. In the moment that I saw Ella fighting back, I saw something different. I saw innocence trying to fight back. What I saw was an angel getting her wings torn out. I'd reacted. I wanted to help; be the good person. I suppose I didn't want to see another woman die because of me.

My answer perplexed her, but she didn't say anything else. I looked back down.

"Pretty girl like you; you have to have a boyfriend or something. He should have come to get you." I teased. She laughed.

"I don't have time for those boys! Little urchins; always bringin' me flowers and candies! I have my family to take care of. Besides, I like being on my own. Gives me space, you know?" She blushed as she said it, so I had a feeling she liked the attention more than she let on.

Still, I nodded. I understood. She explained that her real family was dead, and that the people living in the tenements helped to take care of her. Her "village", she explained. When we approached the edge of the neighborhood, she held out her hand to stop me. Reaching into her basket, she ripped a piece of paper, quickly scribbled on it with a lead stub, and handed it to me.

"Come to that address. Saturday night. I'll tell everybody what you did; you'll be welcome. Everybody knows Ella." She said, proudly.

"What is it?"

She didn't answer me, just started to dash forward. She stopped, then turned to face me with a weirdly triumphant look.

"I know what you did to that cop tonight. The person that I want you to meet, he does stuff like that too. I have a feelin' you'll get along fine. Wear something like what you have on!" With that, she ran into the night, vanishing. If I was shocked by her proclamation, I didn't show it.

Eventually I found my way home, spending half of the night walking back. Opening the ornate door, I walked up the stairs to the sitting room. Rixon greeted me there.

"Get lost?" he asked, confused.

"No, just thinking." I looked back at the scribble on the newspaper piece.

"Are you busy this weekend?"

**Sexy, strong, and good with kids? Pssht he's a keeper! Look at Patch, finally doing something good! And I love Ella's character, she's just so spunky! :3 Read, love, and review! Thank you ever so!**


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

**Patch's POV- Present**

"No, I'm not doing anything tonight," Ezra answered.

"Nor I." Nehemiah agreed.

"Awesome. I'd appreciate it if Nora met you both." I told them.

I had to leave Nora early in the morning; Nehemiah had gotten into a skirmish and needed some backup. Besides, I wimped out when it came to telling Nora the truth on my own. It was embarrassing, honestly. I'd done so many bad things without blinking an eye, yet when it came to admitting to those things, I was terrified.

"So, when she—"Ezra started, but paused as I held my hand up.

_Someone's in the studio, throwing things…_I said, frowning. I could hear someone aggressively searching for something, as cupboard doors were opened and slammed shut. We slowly entered the studio, on edge, ready to attack.

Turning swiftly, Vee faced us, her face red and posture stiff. She knew she was busted. I relaxed, and waved my hand at Nehemiah and Ezra to as well.

"_Vee? _What are you doing here? And how the hell do you know which door is mine?" I demanded. Vee wasn't my favorite person. I found her obnoxious and kind of rude at times, and didn't understand why someone as sensible as Nora would be friends with her.

She lifted her chin. "Wouldn't you want to know, psycho? Nora's brought me here before. You weren't supposed to know, but in the circumstances…" Turning, she began leafing through more drawers.

"Hey-"I said, reaching for her arm. She jumped back, avoiding my touch. "Why are you going through my things?" I hissed.

"They're Nora's things too! And I'm looking for something."

I sighed angrily. "_Obviously. _Where is Nora, I need to talk to her."

"She's not here. _Obviously." _Vee retorted. I looked at her like she was crazy (and she is).

"Then please do me a favor and remove yourself from my home. And if I catch you again, next time it won't be as _pretty_ of a please."

She didn't leave, but she did stop searching.

"Why _are _you searching through his things?" Nehemiah reiterated. She jumped; maybe she didn't think he could speak?

Vee sighed. "I need…I need Nora's iron pill prescription. I know she keeps it here."

I immediately became worried. "What happened? Tell me what's wrong. Where is Nora?"

Vee's chest puffed as she inhaled, and her eyes thinned to slits. "I'm not going to tell you!" She shouted. "In fact, you stay away from her!" Clutching her purse, she tried to run past me. Ezra blocked the door, and I placed my fingers on the bridge of my nose in annoyance.

"Vee, you're really aggravating me. Stop _bullshitting _and tell me what's going on!" We stood there in silence. Finally, she spoke up.

"Nora doesn't need you right now. She's really stressed, and sick, and I need to get her medicine. If you could please tell me where it would be." She said quietly. I reaching into my jacket, I pulled out the small paper with the information on it. Her eyes widened in surprise. I approached her, holding it out of reach.

"I keep it, just in case. Now tell me. Is Nora _hurt? Did someone hurt her?" _I asked intensely, placing it in her hands.

"Someone? No. You? Did _you _hurt her?" She responded. I jerked back, insulted.

"How _dare_ you. You know I would never hurt Nora!" I growled. She glared at me.

"No, Patch, I don't! But you know what I _do_ know? Sometimes memories have a way of coming back. When we don't tell someone the truth, they explode. They might hurt the ones we love."

I knew she was alluding to our arguments, but I didn't find it relevant. "Okay?" Nehemiah inhale sharply, as if he'd seen someone hit in the face.

"In fact," she continued "they might stab them _over and over _in their hearts. They feel the pain, more than they can bear. Still, they try to believe in you, though it does nothing but bad for them. At the moment, my best friend is in the hospital, struggling, literally suffering from a bleeding heart!"

Her voice was filled with emotion. She'd walked past me at this point, facing the door. I'd frozen once I understood her.

"I'm not sure what that Lowry girl did, but whatever it is, it's happening to Nora and she doesn't deserve it! _Excuse me, _while I go and take _proper _care of her!"

Ezra must have moved, because I heard her take off quickly into the catacombs. I slumped onto the couch and placed my head in my hands.

_Of course…of course she'd see that memory! _It explained why she didn't want to be near me, why she refused to tell me the truth last night…

I charged towards the door. I needed to get to the hospital, I needed to make sure she was safe, and explain everything to her…

Nehemiah threw himself into me, stopping me. As I glared, he placed his hand on my shoulder.

"It's no good. I've looked into your future and if you show up, Vee will only fight you. Nora may get hurt in the crossfire." He said quietly. I shrugged his arm off aggressively. Ezra moved back into the doorway, stiffening when I shifted into a fighting stance.

"Do you really want the love of your life to see you harming her best friend? What will that do but separate her from you forever?" Nehemiah continued, not raising his voice.

"Nora will understand—"

"No, she won't! Not in the state she's in! You'll only terrify her!"

"Listen to reason, Patch. You're not only making this decision for yourself, it's for Nora as well." Ezra added. I backed up and sat on the couch.

"I'll go to her in her dreams." I replied stiffly.

Nehemiah nodded. "Maybe I ought to go first." I looked up at him through blurred eyes. "To relax her. If you try to visit her, she may panic and immediately eject you. I'll go and clear her dreams. Ezra," he said, turning. "Get him a drink, he looks catatonic."

Ezra chuckled; glad someone thought that this was funny. "Got you, dude."

Nodding, Nehemiah sat in a lotus position and closed his eyes.

Ezra placed the drink in front of me. "Drink up. You need to at least look brave. Your woman is out there suffering; be strong for her."

I glared at him. "I don't need alcohol for bravery. I'll face her when Nehemiah's finished."

Shrugging his shoulders, he downed it himself. Too nervous to sit, he began to pace the room.

I could believe it. I honestly could. There was only so much time before my memories began to spill out. What I didn't understand was why Nora would take Katherine's place in the memory. I would _never _harm Nora…An old hate flared for a moment as I realized that _the bitch _was ruining something else for me, but it dimmed as regret filled in. It had been my choice to kill her. I couldn't take it back, and now it was hurting the one woman that I'd ever loved. What if Vee wasn't the only one who thought that it was better for me to leave Nora alone? What if Nora felt that way herself? I couldn't blame her at this point. She'd seen a side of me that I never wanted anyone to see again. An uncontrolled, vengeful, miserable person. A person who she could now picture brutally murdering her.

I sighed. The best I could do was to tell her the complete truth. I could deal with her reaction when it came. A memory of Chauncey came to mind.

"_You will slip. One day, something or someone will actually mean something to you, and when it does, it will suffer in your place!" _

Nora was suffering. But he wasn't completely correct. We were suffering together. I would trade anything to remove hers, and suffer completely on my own.

One thought kept repeating itself over and over in the back of my mind, begging.

_Angel…Angel I'm so sorry…you have to believe me…_

**Vee's such a good friend. That aside, I really wish she'd get the hell out of Patch's way sometimes. I felt like she would do something like this. And I also thought that Patch would be so protective that he'd keep anything Nora needed on his person (cuz he's just that sweet). Read and review!**


	25. Chapter 24

**So, if you aren't familiar with the sound or history of Swing or Jazz, you should look at these links that I so kindly found for you:**

**1) A simple Swing song that you may have heard as a kid, from the movie _Aristocats_, is 'Ev'rybody Wants to be a Cat'**

**2) Another song, which is slightly more of a Neo-swing, but still just as high energy is "Hey Pachuco" by Royal Crown Revue**

**3) There's dancing, and then there's these guys! Dancing to Swing is an erratic (harder than it looks), high energy, fun activity, and here's a video of just a little of what it would look like:**

watch?v=49ocW71YPfs

**They're excellent performers! (I lack the arm strength to do any of this) Look more into their history if you're interested!**

**I just thought I should share these, in case you couldn't picture this chapter in your mind!**

Chapter Twenty-Four

**Past**

As I approached the place written on the paper, I could hear loud music playing from the basement. Swing and Jazz. I checked the address again; apparently this was an old speakeasy. I rolled my eyes as I remembered Rixon's excuse to worm out of coming. Something about "having some research to do". I'd surprised if he picked up a book; he just can't dance. I sensed out for fallen angels; there were about five. The guard standing outside was one as well. I approached him, and he stiffened.

"And what business do _you _have here?" he growled, not forthcoming at all. My face remained impassive.

"A child named Ella invited me. She said to come this Saturday. Find her and she can prove it for me."

Scowling at me, he beckoned for another guard to come forward and told him to verify my story. Minutes later, Ella, in a pretty blue dress, came out to see me.

"Patch, you came!" She grabbed my hand and began to pull me inside. "I've told everybody about you, and I just know that you'll be welcome!" I was uncomfortable; if the guard's reaction said anything, I didn't know just how 'welcome' I would be.

The speakeasy was an exciting place. The room seemed to span underneath the ground, maybe two tenement buildings long, making it much larger than originally thought. It was lit by gas lights, giving it a warm glow. There were lots of small tables around the room, with lots of people sitting around them, chatting. It wasn't a glittering affair, seeing as the depression was in full force, yet it had its own sort of impressiveness to it. Everyone seemed to be dressed at their best. A band played in the front, and many people were dancing to the music. A small bar lay on the other end of the room.

"This is where everyone comes on Saturday nights to enjoy themselves! It's not expensive either; Pops is so nice that he makes it where everyone can at least afford a drink! And the music? Welcome to the best band in New York!" Ella proclaimed happily. Eyes were following us as she pulled me through the room.

"Aren't you a little young to be spending time in a bar?" I asked her. She shook her head.

"I don't drink anything. The adults like to keep an eye on me, because I used to sneak in here at night to hear the music. They seem to think I'll go get into some sort of trouble if they don't legally let me stay." A hand came out and pinched her cheek.

"We _know _you'll go get into some trouble." A woman stood up. Her red dress was form fitting, her beige face beautiful with red lipstick, and her stature made me wonder if she had some Nephilim blood. "Is this the friend that you've told us about?" Ella nodded eagerly. Her friend turned to me, smiling. When she stood, a certain radius around her grew quiet.

"My name is Eleanor. Ella is my namesake, although she prefers to go by her nickname these days. Thank you for saving her life the other night. She tends to go her own way, and with the way times are, she could have been hurt very badly." I nodded my head in a small bow, accepting her thanks. Suddenly I was being smiled at from all around, and the whispers turned into what I'd done. It was slightly embarrassing; no one had ever treated me with such genuine happiness.

Ella tugged on my shirtsleeve. "Do you see the band? One day, I'm going to be a beautiful singer and stand right up there!" she said, pointing. I stopped her before she could continue.

"Ella, who is the person that you wanted me to meet?" I was still on edge. Being surrounded by unknown fallen only made me feel agitated. My tone pushed her; she nodded and walked towards the back of the room. Two guards stood in front of the door. Ella smiled uneasily, and asked them to tell whoever was inside that she had a guest.

"Come in." A voice answered. Shrugging, Ella pushed open the door and led me in. The office was small, and lit by one small lamp. The music was muted. A man sat behind a desk. He had ebony skin, and was dressed impeccably in a white suit. He was two inches shorter than me, and of medium build. Something about him seemed serene, yet unapproachable. He looked at Ella and smiled.

"Well, Miss Songbird, have you brought your friend? How nice." His voice was deep, resonating in the room. Ella smiled, but seemed fidgety. It seemed that she was actually trying to behave.

"Yes, sir. This is Patch. He's really nice!" Her face inclined toward the door as the song changed.

"Your song is playing outside; you can go ahead." Smiling, she reached for the door.

"Thanks, Pops!" She closed the door behind her. I turned, defensive, towards the fallen angel in front of me. He stood, and held his hand out.

"So, Patch. I should introduce myself. My name is Robert. Thank you for helping Ella. The policemen are a consistent problem around here, and so is Ella's penchant for going where the wind takes her."

I shook his hand, and looked back at the door. "Is Ella Nephilim? Is she secretly your child?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "No. I take care of everyone in this neighborhood, and anyone else who comes to me for help. I found Ella on her own as a baby, wandering in the streets abandoned. I believe that she has diluted Nephilim blood, maybe through one of her parents, as she caught on to my ability to mindspeak very quickly. I keep her nearby, as such. She believes that she's completely independent, but they all know if something happens to bring her to me. They're all my children, but Ella is one of my favorites."

So, he had a God complex going on. This was getting stranger by the minute.

"That officer, I was going to deal with him eventually, but it seems like you've handled him for me."

"I didn't kill him. Didn't want to upset Ella." I responded. He waved his hand.

"No worries. Like you said, it would have frightened Ella. Besides, he deserves worse, and worse takes time."

I stared at him, perplexed.

"How would you like to join me, Patch?" he asked suddenly. My eyebrows rose, and a little arrogance came out in my tone when I answered.

"I have connections with almost all of the fallen angels in this city. You think I should work for you? Let me clarify for you: I work for no one but myself." Robert smiled, despite my harshness.

"Maybe, but that's just what I need. A pair of ears in higher places. I've already made connections with those same fallen angels, but I'm just a small school of fish among a large pond. Besides, I've heard of what you can do. I'll be honest, having you on my side would present me with an edge that at the moment I do not possess. Besides, Ella's taken quite the shining to you."

I thought about his words, and about his establishment.

"Why _do_ you do it? Why do you help everyone out there?" It genuinely confused me. He was _fallen; _no longer bound to protect humanity by Heaven. Yet he still did it, and seemingly for nothing. All I'd known as a fallen was rejection, pain, and suffering. He seemed to understand me.

"I fell only recently. Just a century ago. I'd fallen in love with the woman that I was supposed to protect. Naobi was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. She captivated me with her long curls, and toffee colored skin, and delightful singing voice. She was intelligent, peaceful…it was soothing simply to be around her."

I laughed bitterly. Beautiful? Soothing? _Captivating? _Words I'd never waste on a woman. "A human woman? No wonder. So far they've been nothing but trouble."

"I wanted to become human for her."

"And here you seemed so reasonable. Foolish decision. It's impossible."

Robert smirked. "I sense you are older than I, and yet you are so closed-minded. It is written of a way to become human."

I jerked forward. "What?"

"I never got the chance to become human for her. One day, my vigilance slipped, and she drowned before I could reach her. Because they couldn't prove my love for Naobi, they couldn't send me to Hell. They settled with stripping me of my title and wings, then banished me back to Earth. I was angry, bitter. However, I thought of Naobi and what she would have wanted." His eyes seemed to stare into the past.

"_There's a way to become human_?" I demanded. His eyes cut to me, shutting me down. He wasn't finished with his story.

"I was a Guardian Angel before I fell. I could say that it is in my nature to protect those around me. I want to disprove Heaven's little theory. They seem to believe that because they strip our wings, we will become the evil and despised things that they want to suffer for the rest of eternity. They want us to hunger for nothing but the body of a Nephilim and the ability to feel. Well _I will not behave that way. I will not prove them correct._"

My eyes were wide as I took in his logic. It made sense; his serenity was _perfected. _Once Heaven rejected us, we were supposed to turn on everything and come despicable. It made us the bad guys; gave them a reason to be rid of us. His theory was dead continued, folding his arms.

"I want to prove that I can still care, regardless of what life has thrown at me. I still have all of the traits that I had before I fell. Just because they don't want me anymore, it doesn't mean that I've become worthless. I can be ordained to protect _not by Heaven_, but by the humans around me. And so, I continued my good work down here, amongst those who need me." He turned to me. "I see that I've finally captured your interest. Becoming human. The _Book of Enoch _tells of a way to become human. It's just a shame that I have yet to acquire one. I'm working on it."

He waited silently as I ruminated over the bait that he held out over my head.

"Does my way of life make sense to you?" he asked me. I nodded. I'd never thought about trying to be the Jev that I was before I fell. I didn't _want_ to. I was so angry that it never occurred to me that in my rebellion, I was doing exactly what Heaven expected of me. Even when I wasn't in Heaven, they _still _thought they were running my life! None of the other fallen that I'd met seemed to think about it either, especially the ones from the Irish commune. They accepted the role that they'd been given wholeheartedly. They didn't seem to realize that they were falling right into another mold. Robert had simply come up with another way to defy them. He maintained his status as a Guardian. It was impressive, really.

"Well, I'm certainly not interested in being a Guardian, but about your offer. I'll think on it." I said. Robert smiled widely, his white teeth showing.

"Sure." He stood, coming to grasp my shoulders. "Go enjoy the music. I'm sure Ella misses your presence. Dance. Drink. By the morning, I'll know if you've accepted my offer if the policeman that attempted to molest Ella is dead. Make it interesting."

I smirked. "What was all that about being a Guardian?"

He returned my look full force. "Will a mother bear not kill for her children? I will do what is necessary. Go."

Waving his hand, I was dismissed. I saw Ella sitting outside of the door. She jumped up.

"Come on! The only reason I'm allowed to be up right now is because you're here! So look lively! You can even hear me sing!"

Throughout the night, I learned many things. First, I learned that I loved jazz and Swing. Ella even convinced me that one day I could play piano for her. Watching her, and everyone else, dance was an exciting experience. Second, I learned that I hadn't been around such joyful, loose people since the night that I originally saw the tavern in the Loire Valley. No one knew of my past, and in fact welcomed me. It was an interesting feeling. Finally, I learned that I could, in fact, become human.

_Human. _It kept coming back to me all night. A dream that I'd given up on ages ago, suddenly possible. How I was supposed to do it, I didn't know. Getting the Book of Enoch was impossible without travelling to Heaven. Whatever Robert's philosophy was, and no matter how perfect he was at it, he was still no closer than becoming human than I was. But he'd still known of the possibility, and I was tempted. Maybe I could stick around…no harm in having another ally…

* * *

><p>Rixon looked on in the early morning as I strung up the bleeding, mutilated officer's body up over the station. I'd made sure to cut off a certain <em>part <em>before slitting his throat, and I made sure that everyone was aware of it.

He laughed and crossed his arms as I wiped the dust off of my pants. "Enlighten me. Was this personal, or a job?"

I smiled back. "Both."

**I named Ella/Eleanor after my grandma. She was familiar with this style of dance and music (I called and asked, but really, who can imagine _Grandma_ out there jammin?) My next chapter's on its way soon; I'm typing as we speak! Read and review!**


	26. Chapter 25

**Hi! So: **

**1) Guest, I do remember that scene from iCarly- I actually thought of it when I typed chapter 23 out. Good eye there!**

**2)Dallas, I in fact do LOTS of research for this story. First, I research from the series itself; I keep them on my shelf right above my head so when I need to make a reference, I know it's correct. Also, I have to do outside research, so that the things I type are historically accurate. No cell phones in the 1800s! **

**3)I know this is slightly random, but I tend to look around for features on people or in pictures that I attribute to Patch and Nora. I think I found the perfect Nora! It's a fan drawing of "Lady" from Disney's Lady and the Tramp as a human, but I think it's pretty awesome! Just fill her in with red hair and grey eyes. I'm still looking for a Patch. I can't seem to find his eyes; I have an image in my head but his eyes are hard to find on real people (I tend to imagine in half human/half cartoon). Anyway, check it out; the whole thing's pretty cool!**

** /disney/heres-what-classic-disney-creatures-would-look-like-as-humans/?subpage=31 **

Chapter Twenty-Five

**Present**

**Nora's POV**

It was quiet. I wasn't seeing the nightmares that I normally did; instead I was lying on my hospital bed. The off-color of the room let me know that I was dreaming. Shaking my head, I sat up and placed my hand on my chest. No pain, but I wasn't sure if it was because I was healed or unconscious.

"Are you better, Nora Grey?" I jumped at the unfamiliar voice. Turning, I saw a man, sitting cross-legged on one of the chairs. He had a soft voice, and beautiful light brown eyes, eyes that stared with an odd mixture of concern, yet disdain. I was ready to leave. He held his hand out to stop me.

"I mean you no harm. Relax." He sighed.

I lay back down onto the bed, eyeing him speculatively. "Who are you?"

"My name is Nehemiah. I knew Patch before he fell to Earth."

My heart jumped at Patch's name. "Really?"

He nodded. "I have come, as well as our friend Ezra, to speak to you about him."

"Why?"

He rolled his eyes, as if to suggest _why else?_ I growled. Was I so annoying? At my growl, he chuckled.

"You seem very confused. It is a simple matter, really. I'm here for two reasons. First and foremost I'm here to defend my friend. You seem to be having issues with one another. Second, I'm here to clear your mind of nightmares. You would do well to listen to me."

He spoke with such a proper cadence that I couldn't help but feel that I was being spoken down to. Still, I nodded warily for him to go on.

"The main reason Patch fell was because he wanted a human body. He didn't do his research, and thought that when he found the woman he loved, he could simply join her. You witnessed what happened to Katharine Lowry. That event happened soon after Patch fell. You must understand- she is the one that he fell for. Her beauty bewitched him."

I wanted to kick myself when all I could think was '_Did my beauty bewitch him?' _

"Katharine was a murderess. Patch was unaware of her fatal flaws until he witnessed her kill a human in front of his own eyes. He tried to get away, but she begged him for help saving her. In his youth and confusion, he went along. Upon his return to Heaven, he was placed on a rigged trial and immediately de-winged by one of his best friends. Ezra. All he wanted was to come home and never disobey again. Instead, he was humiliated, he lost his wings, his home, and his friends in one fell swoop. Understandably, he was distraught."

_Poor Patch._ I knew what it was like to lose a parent; I couldn't imagine losing _everything. _I wasn't sure what I could do to my mom to make her disown me so harshly.

"The Patch that you know now, he is very controlled down to the inch. Still, he will kill if he feels you are threatened. Jev was a confused, impulsive, sad and angry child. Of course he would react differently! He attributed all of the losses to Katharine. The night that he killed her, he wanted to purge not only the world of her presence, but of the stain on his own soul. He was reacting out of pride and pain, Nora. You saw his eyes. What did you see in them?"

I shuddered as I pictured his eyes. I could now see the dejection, pain, and anger clearly.

"He told me she died of old age…" I murmured in defense. Nehemiah laughed.

"He certainly couldn't tell the love of his life what happened; he feared that you would react the way that you have been."

"Is anything else a lie?"

"No. You assume everything he's done is bad. Your lack of trust is stifling." My face must have registered insult, because he continued. "Most of his history is dark, yes. He's perfected the role of the predator. Intelligent. Strong. Cunning. Determined. Quick. But are those not the traits that you fell in love with?"

My jaw dropped. "I…"

"They are not bad traits. He used them towards evil, granted, encouraged by his friend Rixon and the other fallen. He fell into the role that was expected of a fallen angel. But he's done good things. If you would talk to him, ask; he could tell you. Instead, you search for his secrets. You know he's stubborn. Forcing him to admit anything will only make him close up even more."

_Intelligent. Strong. Cunning. Determined. Quick. But are those not the traits that you fell in love with? _

They _were. _I loved those exact things. When I needed something, or was upset, he always knew. He could outsmart anyone in any situation, keeping the both of us safe. I relied on his strength since the day that we met. He was always there. I _loved those things…_even the casual innuendo to keep me on my toes, feeling loved.

"He has changed since he met you. The impulsive, bitter boy that I knew is seeking to be better. He knows he's done wrong. With you, he seeks his second chance at redemption. He d_eserves it!_ We saw all of the things he's done for you; if he deserves redemption from anyone, it is from _you_, Nora Grey! This is a man that has given up so much of himself, all for your happiness. If you cannot respect that, then maybe you aren't worthy of the truth, or even him."

Nehemiah seemed to need to catch his breath. All of his words struck me to my core, and I was silent.

"You are prone to overreaction, I can tell, but through all that Patch loves you. He'd do anything for you, and would never hurt you. Even now, he's waiting for you. That's all I have to say. He is here, and he wants to see you. More than anything, he wants to see you. Are you ready?"

I thought about it.

I was a _terrible _girlfriend…I'd rushed to every assumption that I could think of in my anger. I didn't think for a moment of how it must have pained Patch to keep all of that inside, including how he felt about my outbursts. The last time I did that, I was 17 and I'd almost lost him to Marcie Millar. I was older; I should have outgrown this behavior!

I knew that he had a past. He'd told me so.

"_I'm also a thief, a gambler, a cheat, and a murderer. But this happens to be one of those rare times when I'm telling the truth." _

"_Keep in mind that people change, but the past doesn't." _

People had always hired him for "jobs", and I never thought twice about it before. The only reason it mattered was because of some argument that we had. I didn't even remember what it was! It wasn't even worth thinking about!

I still loved him. I'd always love him. He'd done so much for me. He'd sacrificed his human body, the one that he'd fallen and searched for for centuries. He'd given up his vassal, and the ability to feel, in order to let me live. He'd sent his best friend to Hell, all for trying to kill me. He didn't kill Hank when I'd asked him not to, regardless of the amount of money. He'd been faithful, looking out for me even when I was at my worst. He'd sworn under Heaven to love me forever, and not one day passed where I saw him go back on it. There was always a soft smile, or flowers, or dinner, or _something_ that let me know he was thinking about me. Even when I yelled over something, he'd just smile later and I'd know I was still okay.

I began to bawl. I was so _ashamed. _

"_I'm such a terrible person…I can't face him…not with how I've behaved…" _

Nehemiah rolled his eyes again and smiled, pulling out a handkerchief.

"Yes, silly girl, you can." He approached me and kneeled, placing a hand on my knee. "I can count on two hands the amount of people Patch has cared for in his existence. Appreciate his love; it's hard won and not easily lost."

"How can he forgive me?"

"He asks the same of you."

Wiping my face, I nodded. "I want to see him in person." A dream reunion wouldn't do. I needed to see him for real, so that I could hold him and explain how sorry I was and beg forgiveness. "I'll make sure Vee leaves him alone."

Nehemiah laughed at the mention of Vee. He told me how she found Patch's house and searched for my medicine. I couldn't help but choke out a laugh.

"I've got a good friend. Forgive her, she's protective when it comes to me." I turned to Nehemiah. "I'm so glad that Patch has two good friends. He's been so lonely ever since Rixon…well, I've always been afraid that he was bitter about it. I hope you stick around; you're very smart."

Blushing slightly, he smiled. "Oh, well…" He cleared his throat. "So you will speak to him in person?" I nodded.

"Okay. You will have peaceful dreams. Be careful; I'm not sure what is ailing you, but you will feel it again when you wake up." Sitting back into his lotus position, he vanished.

I lay down on the bed, smiling.

* * *

><p>Gasping, I sat up. I heard a heart monitor beeping slowly to my sluggish heart. True to word, the pain in my chest was full force, almost suffocating me. It seemed fitting, that my real heart would be suffering. Vee rushed toward me, medicine in hand.<p>

"Take them." Nodding, I did as I was told. Before she could speak again, I laid back down on the bed.

"Vee…" My voice was raspy, and I could hardly speak.

"Don't worry, I won't let that psycho woman killer get to you. I'll stand outside the door all night if I have to."

"_Vee!" _

"Yes? Do you need some more pain medicine? Should I call the doctors? A donut? Are you hungry?"

I pinned her with the sternest glare I could, considering the pain I was in. She went silent.

"_Vee…get…get the diaries…bring them to me…" _

Her eyes popped open. "But if Patch sees them on you—"

I shook my head. "_Please, Vee." _She began nodding.

"Right, I'll go get them, and then we can have the evidence! Even sick, you're so smart!"

Before I could correct her, she'd sped out of the hospital.

_I love you, but dammit Vee…_

I passed back out, hearing the heart monitor fade.

**Vee come back! Read and review! **


	27. Chapter 26

**Posting early! I know right? **

**So, I received some ideas of what Patch may look like, and I have to say I've chosen my favorite. **

**Fanfiction won't let me put up the link, but type in "Marlon Texeira- socialite life" You'll know EXACTLY what picture I'm talking about when you see it. It's going to be in black and white, with two guys in it.**

**I searched through this model's pictures until I found the perfect one. It's Patch _and _Rixon. He's even wearing a silver chain. Drop the mic, walk away, feeling successful. I have to say, the guy who's Patch is one of the _more handsome men_ I've ever seen in my life. He has other pictures (a naughty model, I think) but I think I prefer him with just the peach fuzz. And the guy who's Rixon, just assume he's leaning down (because Rixon is taller than Patch). His beauty makes me choke on happiness. Literally I squeal when I look. You can thank TheBritWhoDoesn'tDrinkTea for this early chapter, because they showed me who this model was and in my excitement I had to post early to share this with you. **

**So, the bonus of this early chapter is...well, early chapter! The drawback is, I'm still working on the writing portion of the next chapter :'( I'm sorry, but I had an idea...and then I threw it away. I'm going to test something, and if it doesn't work out, I'll re-write what I had before. Just be patient loves!**

Chapter Twenty-Six

**1970's**

We were moving on. There was nothing left for us here. I had two reasons why I wasn't sad to put New York City behind me.

Ella was dead.

She was only sixteen. She was working at the hospital when the building caught on fire, and she couldn't get out. I liked to think that she was being the hero, helping others escape. It would have been characteristic of her. It still pained me to think of how she must have felt when she knew she was trapped. It was a regret of mine that I wasn't near, that I wasn't able to save her.

She was like a little sister to me, and I'd made sure that her needs were met whenever she had one. I'd let her move into my home (at Rixon's curiosity), and whenever she wanted to go back to her old neighborhood with gifts I took her there. Stunning, charming, a hard worker and still mischievous at sixteen, she had a swagger that even I found hard to match at times. Rixon enjoyed having her around, and it seemed to be a competition of confidence between the two. Things were good; better than they had been for me in a long time.

I remembered speaking to her a day before she died. She'd seemed down for some reason, not herself. To this day I don't understand; it was as if she knew what was going to happen to her.

I'd sat down beside her. "What's wrong, Ella? Did someone bother you today?"

She shook her head. "No…no. Hey Patch—"She paused, at a loss for words.

"Yes?"

"I was thinking about mortality. My own, I mean. With the war going on, and other issues happening, it just….it was what was in my head this morning."

"That's pretty dark."

Ella laughed quietly. "I know. Still. Will you always be my friend? Even when I'm old and wrinkled?" She turned her face. She looked at me with misty eyes, and their depths held an ancient sadness. It unsettled me.

"Of course, Ella. You know that you're my kid sister- someone has to keep you in check."

She didn't laugh at my joke. "Even if I go and get married? Or do something stupid?"

I laughed softly. "The fact that you rank those together let me know I don't have to worry about you. Come on, Ella, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I think it's from being in the hospital all of the time. It makes me feel nervous, you know? Seeing all of those poor people…" She shuddered.

"You know you don't have to work there." I told her. She laughed.

"I know, I know. You could take care of me. I appreciate it, big brother, but I have to earn my own way too. Besides, it makes me feel good to help others."

I nodded, understanding.

"If…If I didn't come back…if I died tomorrow, you'd remember me forever?"

I jumped. "Yes. You're making me nervous with all this fatality. Ella, I will be there the day you get married, to threaten whoever the lucky man is to treat you right. I will be there when you're old and pruny and can't hear me speaking to you anymore without an ear horn. Don't be so fatalistic. You'll turn prematurely gray."

She punched me in the arm, then stood up. She turned her face up, looking into the sky, then turned back to me.

"Thanks for listening. I feel better already." She smiled her trademark smile, and I smiled back.

"You know, I have a solution for this. Don't grow up. Stay young forever." I said, grinning. She laughed.

"If only I were so lucky!"

_Why did I say that? I never meant it like that! Ella, I didn't mean it that way!_

When I found out about the fire, and Ella's rushing back in to save a child at the risk of her own life, I was genuinely brokenhearted. There were days where I cursed her choice, wondering why she didn't just leave the kid. Then I berated myself, knowing I was demeaning her valiant choice.

Still, I stayed in New York. I told myself it was for Ella. I couldn't move on. I still placed flowers on her grave, spoke to her, unable to move on. I knew there was a Heaven, and I was positively sure she was there, listening.

Then, Robert was sent to Hell, along with the Book of Enoch.

He'd finally attained a Book of Enoch, at the risk of his own honor code. The book was stolen from Heaven, and no fallen was supposed to have it in possession. It'd been sloppily stolen as well, so of course the Archangels knew about it.

He'd called me to his office. When I saw him, he wasn't his normal, self-possessed self. Instead, he was sweating, and the feverish look in his eyes was one of a drug addict who'd finally scored a large amount of the drug he needed. He held the book in his hand; it was white, with mother–of-pearl outline.

"I…I did it, Patch…I did it. Now I can become human…I can finally die and move on to Heaven with my beloved Naobi, and little Ella…" he gasped, smiling.

"Robert…" I cautioned. "How do you know? How did you get it?"

"_Does it matter? I've done it! I succeeded!" _

The moment he said it, his arm began to turn into black ash. The book fell to the ground. He looked at me with horror.

"I'm…_no! It's not time! Don't do this, not now…Patch, do something!" _he screamed in anguish.

I was horrified; I knew someone was burning his feather. I knew that if I helped, it would give the Archangels a reason to burn my feather as well. He was damned regardless. In the same note, I couldn't let the Book get away. I jumped forward, reaching for it. Robert saw me reach not for him, but for the book. His eyes widened, and his face showed betrayal before he finally vanished. I looked down, and the book began to turn to ash as well.

"No…no!" I cried. It was too late. They were both gone.

That was enough for me. I'd watched both of the reasons I stayed in New York literally go up in smoke, and I couldn't stand it anymore.

Chauncey and Barnabas, now going by Hank Millar, were leaving New York as well. It was becoming too hard for them to keep up human appearances. Rixon was putting the last of our items into his truck, and we were finally headed to the new place.

"So, what exactly is _in_ Coldwater, Maine?" I asked Rixon dubiously. He'd done the research ahead of me.

"Well, the last dregs of Chauncey's descendants live there, for starters. The Grey family. Lacking in both money and prestige; a real kicker for Chauncey. There's a huge center of Nephilim. The commune is called Delphic, and the fallen live in the catacombs underneath it. It's like New England's center for the immortal. I'm sure we can find a nice place."

"I'm sure that Chauncey is trying to take advantage of the large amount of Nephilim." I said offhandedly. Chauncey was determined to find a way to release himself from his bonds to me. After Ella died, I'd lost the ability to care too much about anything. I wasn't threatened. Every year, we went through Cheshvan, the same way we always did, and that was that.

I nodded. "So why can't we fly there?" While I hated commercial plane rides, I liked to look out of the window and see above the clouds.

"It's pointless. Besides, consider this our latest adventure. We used to do so much together, man. I miss you."

I smirked. "Only _you_ could say that so easily."

"You know that Ella wouldn't want you to be miserable." My face changed.

"Right." When Rixon had everything outside, we got into the car.

"I have to go somewhere else first." I told him. Looking at me warily, but nodding, I started the car and headed for the cemetery.

* * *

><p><strong>Nora's POV<strong>

My eyes were blurry, and I could hardly see.

Something made a noise soon after Vee left, waking me up. I had a bad feeling about my surroundings, and I tried to push myself up onto my arm.

_I couldn't move. _

Panicking, I turned my eyes to the right. I saw a shadowy figure standing over me, holding two syringes.

"What…" I murmured. It wasn't Patch. I could tell that whoever it was had placed something into my fluid bag, because I wasn't able to move at all. In fact, I was becoming more exhausted than normal.

Before I passed out again, I felt them lift my arm and stick it with the other syringe. He began to speak, and I only picked up some of his words.

"This…what happens…...don't pay…...owe..._stupid, thieving bitch…" _

I could practically feel the hate rolling off of him. I was horrified, but as Elliot left the room, I fell unconscious.

* * *

><p><strong>Present- Patch's POV<strong>

I was speeding towards the hospital, elated. When Nehemiah returned with Nora's terms, I was more than happy to agree. I was so _happy _that she wanted to see me. He told me of how remorseful she was, and I wanted nothing more but to go wipe the tears from her face.

"Where's the fire, Patch?" Ezra teased.

"Under your ass, can't you smell it Ezra?" I retorted. Nehemiah snickered, and Ezra punched me in the arm. Ezra sat in the passenger seat, and Nehemiah was in the back.

"Touché."

"Snaps jar, anyone? Ezra, you owe him some change." Nehemiah said, laughing.

The mood was light, playful. My friends were happy to see me so hopeful, and fed my elation. I was so ready for the night to end in me holding Nora that I could have burst.

So it shocked me when Nehemiah gasped in panic.

"Stop! _Stop the car!" _he cried.

"What—"

Before I could react, shots began to ring through the car, tearing into our bodies. I let go of the wheel, and the car swerved off of the road.

**But...but they were so _close! _What's going on with Nora? **

**Oh, and in case you wondered, a $naps jar is when someone puts change in a jar after you hit them with a zinger (well said comeback). It's a game.**

**Read and review!**


	28. Chapter 27

**We have a new point of view! This will probably be a one time thing, but I figured 'why not'. **

Chapter Twenty-Seven

**Present**

**Ezra's POV**

Gasping for air, I looked down at my body. Riddled with bullets, bleeding with a broken knee, but nothing I couldn't handle. One of the few times I was ever glad I couldn't feel anymore. The car had swerved and rolled over, and was catching on fire. Coming to my senses, I crawled out of the flaming vehicle and sensed out for Patch and Nehemiah. I saw Nehemiah on the ground with a shard of the car coming from his back, just barely missing his wing scars. He was struggling to stand.

_Patch! He's still in the car! Ezra, get him! _He cried in mindspeak. Nodding, I moved as fast as I could towards the car. Groaning in pain and half unconscious, Patch's torso was hanging out of the window.

"I got you, don't worry man!" I said, pulling him out of the car and away from the fire. Shaking, he had blood coming from his mouth, bullets lining his half of his body, and curses were spilling from his mouth.

Nehemiah had crawled over to where we were. Both of them were in bad condition; it might take them time to completely heal. I think it was because they were on the side of the car that was hit the hardest. Sensing out, I felt all but one human presence slip into the distance. I turned towards it.

A man with blond hair and bad facial hair stood there, smugly, with a machine gun in his hand. That would explain the other human presences fading away; there was no way he'd done all that damage with that one gun. It was a hit.

_Who the hell is that? _I hissed. Patch was coming to, still shaking, and glared at the man.

"Well, if it isn't Chauncey's old crony. _Elliot, _wasn't it? To what do I have the honor?" he growled. Nehemiah placed Patch's arm around his shoulder, so that he could breathe properly. I stood, standing guard over him. Elliot smiled.

"I needed to make sure that we could speak on even terms." He said, smirking. I must have made a movement forward, because he held the gun up. "Move even once, and I'll shoot you up full of bullets. Even if you can't feel it, it will stop you from moving."

"_I ought to strangle you, you arrogant bastard!" _Patch hissed, coughing up blood. Elliot laughed.

"Big words coming from someone lying on the ground, bloody. It seems like you even feel it; even better."

"What do you want?" Nehemiah asked, struggling to support Patch's weight and the car shard.

"Chauncey Langeais' diaries."

Patch cackled, a pained bitter sound. "Yes, because I needed souvenirs of _Chauncey_. What makes you think I have them?" he rasped.

"I _don't_ think you have them. I think you have the _money_ for them."

Patch grinned evilly. "As if I'd give you what you want, you weak coward. Bullets or no, as soon as I can I _will _make you pay for this."

Elliot's face changed; he seemed deranged. He pulled out a phone, holding it like a grenade.

"I was able to call in a favor from some men, so I have back up. Try fucking _anything, _and I'll press it."

"And?" I mocked. He laughed insanely.

"And my men will pump a little more of my special mixture into Nora Grey's blood."

Uh oh. I sensed Patch stiffen behind me. What a low blow; I couldn't even attack him now without hurting Patch's girlfriend!

"What does she have to do with any of this?" Nehemiah demanded. Patch's face had gone dark, and his hair covered his face. Elliot's face contorted into an insane rage.

"She _robbed me! _The conniving, trouble making bitch took the diaries from me and then didn't pay me for them!"

Patch jerked forward at the insult towards Nora, but Elliot quickly shot him in the chest. Nehemiah grabbed him, lifting him up and pulling him back. I stiffened, trying to come up with a way to attack him quickly. It would impossible in the state I was in. Elliot began to ramble quickly, almost to himself, and pacing.

"I need that money! I was able to pay those men to help me but I have bigger issues and people I owe and I need it I need it I _need it!" _Breathing in heavily, he turned to Patch. "$60,000 per diary. There are three. And $100,000 for…well, if you don't, Nora's suffering will be prolonged."

"How are we supposed to get you this money when we're here, bloody and injured?" I asked him, glaring. He jumped, as if he hadn't thought it all through. He seemed like he was losing his mind; dude had the traits of a suffering drug addict, looking for his next fix.

"What…_what did you do to Nora?!" _Patch whispered intensely, still bleeding. Elliot laughed maniacally.

"I thought you'd never ask! Potassium Cyanide, right into her veins! As we speak, her blood is reacting, and her all of her veins are slowly _dissolving_. 'Hot as hellfire', according to survivors. It was more than I could ask for, hearing that her heart was moving slower than normal. A bit of something to immobilize her, and then I injected her. Her death will be nice, slow and agonizing."

Patch's eyes widened, Nehemiah gasped in horror, and Elliot seemed to be fed by it. "Shall I go into more detail? Her skin will deform, she might lose some teeth and hair, and her organs? _Pulp_." He pulled out the phone. "And unless you want her to suffer even more, 280,000 dollars, quickly! In fact, every minute you wait, I'll increase it by $40,000!" His eyes were wide, and he seemed so buzzed by his evil plan that he couldn't see all of the flaws in it. Like, no bank or access. Suddenly, the other human presences vanished.

_The other human presences are vanishing. They see the foolishness in his plan. They're deserting him! _I told Nehemiah. He was too distracted by the shard; it was making him uncomfortable. Moving back slowly, I pulled the shard from his back. Gasping in relief, he stood and held Patch up along with.

_He's insane! Look at him! How would this plan even work? More importantly, how will we work around it? _Nehemiah said, annoyed at the lack of logic. He looked down at Patch, who was glaring at Elliot, surprisingly quiet.

_He's trying to think beyond his blindsided-ness. He's too proud to beg, and he wants to kill Elliot, but he doesn't want to risk Nora's pain and needs to get to her quickly. _Nehemiah told me.

"Are we not cooperating?" Elliot shouted, growing impatient. He pressed his phone twice, making Patch's face grow darker. "Two more syringes. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you _aren't_ in love with the bitch who went behind your back. I mean, she doesn't even trust you. I even heard her. Shame. She deserves every second of this suffering, if you ask me."

It was a foolish move, mocking Patch like that. Our bodies, past the initial trauma, were rejecting the bullets. We were healing enough to fight back, and in his rush, Elliot couldn't see that. I _could_ see Patch's energy returning, his body straightening, and his rage growing beneath his cold face. Elliot had hurt Nora, hurt and tried to humiliate him, and it he wouldn't take it lightly.

Nehemiah had his hand on Patch's shaking shoulder, the one link to sanity he had left. I looked at Elliot's face, reflecting insanity, lit by the fire. I looked back at Patch. I was an Avenging angel at heart, and my righteous anger grew for him.

_I've got your back, _I told him. He didn't respond. I turned to Nehemiah.

_Nehemiah. Let him go. _

Nehemiah's eyes widened. _But…Ezra-_

_Let him go, Nehemiah!_

Looking at me warily, Nehemiah listened. I began to move to the side.

He lifted his hand from Patch's shoulder.

* * *

><p><strong>Patch's POV<strong>

I charged straight for Elliot. Jumping, he tried to fire. He was too late, because Ezra came at him from the side, kicking the gun from his hands. I began to hit Elliot with a barrage of punches, until his face was bloody. Ezra lifted him by the back of his shirt, and I stared into his swollen, beady eyes.

He gurgled a laugh. "Go 'head, kill me," he mumbled. Ezra looked at up me, measuring what I would do.

"No. I have something even better for you." I faced Ezra. "Take him to my studio under Delphic. There's a false wall in my bedroom; take him in there and chain him to the wall. I'll deal with him later."

Nodding, Ezra choke held Elliot until he was unconscious. Throwing him over his body, he sprinted into the night. I turned to Nehemiah, who surprisingly was silent.

"Um…excellent control?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Just…don't." My mind immediately turned towards Nora.

_Nora…Angel I'm so sorry he was able to hurt you… Angel I'm coming!_

"We'll have to run to the hospital." Nehemiah answered, replying to the look on my face.

Jolted from my reverie, I saw lights approaching from the distance. The car stopped, and someone threw themselves from the car.

Vee stood staring at the carnage in front of her. There was lots of blood on the ground, and my truck was blazing into the sky. Excellent timing though, and I quickly approached her. She backed up, horrified.

"What the hell ha—"

"Vee, something terrible is happening to Nora right now. Elliot did something to her, and we need to get her home _quickly_." Nehemiah explained. I wasn't even in the mood to deal with Vee; I was already purposefully moving to the front seat. Jumping, she got in front of me. I must have had one hell of a look on my face, because Nehemiah gasped like I was going to punch her.

I grabbed her face, making her eyes widen in shock.

"Nora is in _pain _right now, and even though Elliot is the one who hurt her, I'm at fault. I _know _that it's my fault that she was stressed out, that she's in the hospital, and I regret _every_ moment that I put her through that wasn't making her happy. _I need to find her, and I need to make her safe. _You can both fight me and force me to hurt you, or you can come with me. Either way, _I will be seeing Nora tonight. I cannot let her go through any more suffering than she already is. _I don't want to hurt you, Vee, but I will before I let her hurt anymore. _Please_ move."

Vee's jaw dropped, and I felt Nehemiah's surprise and relief behind me.

_He genuinely looks torn up about this…_Vee's thought slipped, and I saw my face reflected in them. Despair and determination, raw on my features.

"Please Vee, trust us. I'll explain everything on the way." Nehemiah said, approaching the car.

"But…but the diaries…"

"I don't _care!" _

Pushing past her, I got into the car. Nehemiah jumped into the back. Shocked, Vee got into the passenger seat before I could leave her, and I sped towards the hospital.

When we arrived at the hospital, Vee had been firmly convinced that I was safe, or at least that Elliot was insane. I ran towards Nora's room, ready to fight whoever was in there, but they'd long vanished.

Vee gasped. "_Nora!" _

Nehemiah flinched, and I kneeled by Nora's body.

She was breathing heavily, and the heart monitor showed her heart beating hard but slowly. Blood was spilling from her mouth, and she was choking on the blood. Stiff, her body seemed to contort on its own, reacting to the agony of the chemical going through her body. Her skin had burn marks on it, almost as if it were being bleached from the inside. The unmarked skin was pale, only making the marks look darker. The worst part was her face. It looked like she was being burned alive.

It all made tears come to my eyes, but I wiped them away and lifted her body from the bed.

_I'll erase the hospital workers' memories. I'll meet you back at the studio. _Nehemiah said, quickly leaving the room.

I barely heard him. I was too busy trying to get Nora to respond.

_I'm here, Angel. Can you hear me? _

_Angel?_

**Finally gets to see her, and she's unresponsive. Damn. Read and review!**


	29. Chapter 28

**So: **

**After doing some math, I decided that in order for Nora to be 22 in 2014 (which is the age I made her, so Vee is already married), she would be born in 1992. So Hank would have to start all his secrets then.**

**As for my cliffhangers, I love cliffhangers, and if I didn't use cliffhangers you guys might not come back :'( I didn't do a cliffhanger for this chapter. But it's a Past chapter. I spin things out, Arabian Nights style. **

**Also, I've been thinking...**

Chapter Twenty-Eight

**Chauncey's Diary**

Everything was going perfectly to plan. When we'd moved to Coldwater, I had more access to Nephilim than I'd ever had. I was able to organize them, and I was (of course) placed in charge, seeing as I had the most resources at my disposal. It was my very own blood society, and with time and my skills, it would develop into something even the Fallen would fear. I stood in my office, thinking. Always thinking; I could never slip. Things were tense; my men were hardly trained, yet they were continuously attacked. I was sure that _Patch _and his little friends were a part of the miscreant activities, trying to harass them and throw off my proceedings. I had to find a way to solve the problem, quickly.

Everything except one little problem.

A good starting place would be to make sure that my second hand in charge was focused.

Barnabas, or Hank as he went by these days, was distracted. I'd let him go to high school, and college, hoping to keep his mind active, but while he excelled in their society, he seemed to be much more focused on it than normal. He had a tendency to make human friends, although I continuously warned him against it. The last time he'd had a wife and children, they'd died in the unexplained circumstances of a fire. One would _think _that it would stop him from making those same mistakes, but no. At the moment, he was fascinated on this girl, this _Blythe Adams. _He was forever a creature of impulse, and I'd had it with his decisions.

He entered my office, bowing. "Yes, Chauncey?" I waved my hand, to make him close the door. I could see his skin flushed, as if he'd had a naughty thought and was trying to clear his mind.

"Hank?" It annoyed me even more.

"Yes, sir?"

"At this moment. What are you thinking?"

He jumped. "I'm thinking about the state of the soldiers' training…"

In a flash, I pinned him to the wall by his throat.

"Don't lie to me, '_Hank'_. You're thinking about that human woman again! What have I _told you?" _

He swallowed, trying to breathe. "That the mission—"I finished for him.

"That the mission is _first and foremost. It takes precedence. _We are here only to save ourselves and our Nephilim brethren, _not to have dalliances with human women!" _I lifted my arm, as if to punch him, and he dodged from underneath my grasp.

"It's nothing like that anymore! Honestly! You made—I'm married to Susanna now! Blythe is even going to marry Harrison this summer!"

Hm. Harrison Grey was one of my last descendants, and was one of Hank's acquaintances while he attended college. So she'd moved on that quickly?

"Well, obviously she's less than savory or important if she's moved on to him that quickly. She's not worth another thought. Now. Susanna is a perfect match for you. Nephilim and of good breeding. She's mandatory for your image right now. Do not disappoint me by continuing relations with that other woman." I commanded him. I looked at his face; he seemed miserable.

"I understand, sir." He said, regretfully. I paused, staring at him in frozen anger.

"You still want that woman. Everything we've built, everything _I've _built, and you want to throw it away from some wench." I stated.

"No, sir." He answered mechanically. I waved some men into the room, and commanded them to grab him. He began to panic, and struggle from their grasp. I grabbed his chin, and forced him to face me.

"I don't think you do. You. Are. Nephilim. Above humanity. Enemy to the Fallen. There is, and never will be, any space in your heart for anything else. If you don't like Susanna, that's too damned bad, because regardless of what you _want, _you will stay married to her. I don't understand why _you_ don't understand your lack of choice in this. I've been too lenient. I've given you too much freedom and favor, and that I _do _understand. You _will _be taught better now."

Throwing his chin, I stood back, staring at the undisguised hate he had in his eyes. Good; he only need learn to channel it in the proper direction. I faced the men holding him.

"Take him. Chain him, and beat him to within an inch of his life. When you are finished, take him to solitary and leave him there. He needs to learn that this is his _only _cause for survival. He is an example. If I can do it to my second in command, I can do it to anyone here."

"Chauncey…Chauncey you bastard!" Hank's face was feverish. I turned away from him, and the men dragged him out. I could hear his shouting all the way down the corridor. I knew that if Hank didn't understand, and respect his position, he would keep disobeying. It was proper punishment. If he couldn't learn it on his own, he would be molded. I would do this continually if necessary. In fact, I think I would, until I was certain he understood.

He would fear me. They would _all_ fear me.

* * *

><p><strong>1996- Patch's POV<strong>

I was sitting down, leaning against a tree at the park. I was some distance away from a playground, so the sounds of children's laughter echoed across the grass.

My cap covered my expression; no child needed to see the extremely irritated look I had on my face. Rixon had left me here, supposedly to handle business with some woman, but he'd told me to wait for him. As to why I _couldn't _leave, I didn't know, but he said he'd handle it quickly. I felt so awkward, sitting there. I shouldn't have been there at all. I would have rather been in my dark, cool studio, researching.

To pass the time, I daydreamed about the last clash we'd had with Chauncey and his men. It had been bloody; the soldiers were becoming hardened and it was slightly harder to fight them. No problem; more fun for us. After moving into Delphic, we joined the unspoken alliance between the fallen to stop issues exactly like Chauncey was causing. Uprisings and such. Because Chauncey and Hank were Rixon and my Nephilim, we were always a part of the group that had to fight. It was very enjoyable, seeing how much my fighting skills had improved over the centuries. It kept me in shape, along with going to the gym every once and a while. Rixon might have teased me a long time ago, but in reality I was ten times the fighter I was when he met me.

It showed the extent of my temper, that imagining fighting Nephilim was making me calm. If I could feel the heat, it would've made for a very bad day.

Suddenly, I jumped. In my dozing, I hadn't noticed a ball hit me in the chest. I grabbed it; it fit perfectly in my palm. A little girl, a toddler, came to grab it. I let some of my annoyance slip when I held it out to her.

"Watch where you throw that thing! Goodness, I can't believe I'm sitting here right now!" I said, glaring.

It was illogical for me to take my annoyance on a kid, and I was going to say a quick 'sorry' and leave, but her response stunned me. Despite the look on my face, she didn't flinch from me. She tossed her curly red curls back, and her wide, stern gray eyes flashed.

"_Well, maybe_ you shouldn't choose to sit in park, where kids play!" she shouted in a high voice, lifting the ball as if she'd throw it back at me.

My eyes rose in dark amusement- the kid had nerve. There was only one person who'd spoken to me that way, and she'd died a long time ago.

"You really want to do that?" I challenged darkly.

"_Nora!" _

We both turned to the man running towards us. Harrison Grey. How ironic; one of Chauncey's descendants. He quickly scooped up the girl and looked at me warily.

"I'm so sorry. She's such a precocious child; she doesn't normally act out so much. She's actually quite sensible most days! Apologize to the man, Nora." He said. The little girl's face crumpled, but she tried to hold back the tears and folded her arms. I laughed quietly, standing up over both of them.

"It's no problem." I answered, trying to hide my laughter.

Nodding at my answer, he quickly walked away. I heard part of their conversation as he left.

"What did I say about strange adults, Nora?" The little girl rolled her eyes, as if the question was too easy.

"Oh, daddy. 'If they aren't Mommy or Daddy, don't talk to them.' Right?" she recited, looking back at him for approval.

"That's my girl. Now, how about some ice cream?"

She giggled happily. For some incomprehensible reason, her little giggle made me chuckle.

"I know you like em' red, but _young? _Don't tell me you like watchin' kids! Do I have to report you?"

I turned to Rixon's familiar brogue. "Ha ha. You put me here against my own free will. Please tell me you finished whatever business you have."

His face changed very minutely for a moment, a flash of disturbance. It faded immediately. "Nope."

I could have socked him in the face, but because there were children present I let it go.

"Whatever. My turn now. You said you'd help me tonight in exchange for this, and there's no backing out." I told him, walking from the tree.

"Sure, right. Human nonsense, Book of Enoch, yep. Pointless, but sure." He sighed.

We began to leave the park, and I listened to Rixon talk about his excitement at fighting Nephilim and the latest girl he'd found to mess with. I sensed someone's eyes on my back, and I turned.

The little girl was watching me over her ice cream, eyes wide.

I smiled, and she blushed and hid behind her dad's legs, still peeping at me. Before he could turn and falsely accuse me of anything, I was gone.

**Hm? What's Rixon hiding? Isn't baby Nora adorable? Why doesn't she remember this? And as for Hank, I feel like it's a "reap what you sow" sort of connection. Patch created the monster that is Chauncey, who in turn creates Hank's...karma all around!**

**Anyway, I was thinking...but no...never mind, I'll wait until the end...**

**Read and review!**


	30. Chapter 29

**My gift to you: An earlier chapter! My bad news: I probably won't be posting again until Saturday. And after that...well, it may be another week (my first quizzes and exam!) KatCipriano questioned me, and I thought I'd clarify for you all, as a disclaimer: Nephilim do, in fact, "die". They just don't stay dead. Scott told Nora that he could get his head chopped off, and anybody without a head is for all intents and purposes "dead". They'll just suffer dying first, and come back later. Like...like sexy zombies or something (okay probably not sexy zombies!) Anyway, time for a _Feel Trip! _**

Chapter Twenty-Nine

**Present**

I washed Elliot's blood off of my hands. I hadn't even bothered to torture him as badly as I would any other prisoner. One, he was human, and I wanted to prolong his suffering without killing him. Two, I was waiting to kill him until Nora woke up and decided what she wanted to do with him first. I knew that she'd want that choice.

After the blood was gone, I went to check on Nora. Vee was placing yet another ice cold rag on her head. Nora hadn't responded since I'd brought her home. It wasn't because she couldn't hear me, but because her pain was so brutal that she couldn't speak through it. All she could keep up was a consistent moan. Her body was no longer contorting on itself, only shaking fiercely. Blood was coming from her eyes, mouth, nose and ears in a consistent flow. I knelt by her, taking the bloodied rag and wiping her down, begging her forgiveness once again.

"Nora…_I don't know how you can forgive me._ I wish I could be the one here, suffering for you. I love you, and you know I can't wait to see you." I murmured, exhaling hard. It would probably be another empty sentence.

"_P…pa…tch…" _My eyes widened as I saw her lips trying to speak my name. I got closer to her.

"Nora? What is it, Angel? What do you need?" I said quickly. Vee stared hard at her face, squeezing her hand, and Nehemiah's eyes rose. Nora's eyes opened only slightly, and the whites of them were a complete blood red.

She switched to mindspeak.

_Do…do I deserve this…I do…don't I…for what I've done…_

"No, Angel, you _don't_ deserve this. Nothing you've ever done, nor ever do, will ever make you deserve to suffer."

Vee began to cry angrily. "She thinks this crap is _okay_? Nora, Elliot's psycho! None of this is your fault!"

I glared at her tone, signaling she was too loud. Bloody tears fell from Nora's eyes.

_It hurts...it hurts! I can't breathe…God…kill me…kill me please! Let me die please don't make me suffer anymore…._

A small cry began to issue from her throat. Her blood red eyes popped open for a moment.

"_Daddy…Daddy I won't run away again, I promise….please, take me with you, don't leave me!" _

It must have been painful coming from her burned throat, because she began to choke up blood and tissue, and her mind closed off to me. I knew what memory she was having, and I knew why she was calling her father.

Silently, I began to cry. It shocked Vee, who'd never seen me spill tears before. She leaned down to hug Nora's struggling body.

"She's going to die, but she will return. She is Nephilim. Her suffering will not last much longer. Stay strong; just stay by her side." Nehemiah said. As a fallen angel of Death, he was immune to this sort of scene and remained calm, albeit tired. I glared at him through red eyes.

"I'm _aware_ of that, Nehemiah! Do you want to know why I'm crying? I'm crying because the love of my life and reason for my happiness is _suffering! _I swore, I s_wore _that I'd make sure she was always happy. _I swore that no one would ever hurt her again. I'm failing, Nehemiah! _It's my fault; if I'd just been honest with her, she'd have never felt the need to find a way around me, and Elliot would have never had something that she wanted. _Why _can't I seem to protect those I love?"

I was in full tears by this point, and Nehemiah only turned away. I'd feel bad for yelling later, but at the moment I could care less. I'd sworn that my misery and regret would be my endless punishment if I ever failed her, and I would rot in it until Nora was better and had forgiven me. Maybe reacting to my loud volume, her hand flailed out to grab mine. I turned to her, instantly contrite.

"Angel I'm here, you didn't need to hear that…I promise it'll be over soon, and you'll be okay. It'll be okay…"

She squeezed my hand hard.

* * *

><p><strong>Past- 1996<strong>

It was a week later, late at night, and I sat in the same spot that the little girl had yelled at me. I wasn't sure why I was wandering the streets so late at night; it was a habit I'd developed back in New York. It helped me clear my mind, taking walks. I was a bit of an insomniac, so I needed to do something when I wasn't gambling or fighting.

I was pondering my latest lead on the Book of Enoch when I heard something peculiar. I turned myself invisible so that I could observe. Someone was crying, someone little. When I looked closer, it was the little girl. She was still in her school clothes, with a backpack on. She hid underneath the little castle in the jungle gym set. It was wrong; she was too little to be out this late on her own. I supposed I could take her to the police station, but it'd be hard to convince her I wasn't a threat. As soon as I stood to walk over, a car pulled up. It was a man. Her father?

"Where are you, little one? I hear you crying. Don't worry, I'll take you home as soon as we're finished."

Not her father then, but a creep who liked toddlers. How disgusting.

She panicked. "Leave me alone! I want to go home!"

The man laughed. "Just earlier you were saying you didn't want to go home because your mommy yelled at you. I'm doing what we both want!"

"_No! Stop following me!"_

When he got closer to the castle, she shot like a dart from underneath it. He jumped for her, grabbing her foot, but she was able to wriggle away. She ran towards the trees where I was. Suddenly, I appeared to her. Strangely, without missing a beat, she hid behind my legs. It was strange that she trusted me, when just a few days ago she wanted to peg me with her toy.

I faced the man, who quailed at the dark expression on my face.

"Hey man, thanks. She's my daughter; I've been looking for her everywhere. I'll take her home now." He lied. As soon as he reached to pick her up, I uppercut him. He fell to the ground, shocked.

"Don't lie to me. I've dealt with darker men than you. As for the ones like you, they tend to end up dead with a certain part of their anatomy missing."

Frozen from both fear and my power, he could do nothing as I knocked him unconscious. I checked him for a wallet. When I found it, I took it out and turned towards the little girl. She stared at me. I sighed; this was not the way I needed my night to go.

"Okay, look. I'm going to take you to the police station. I'm certain your parents are looking for you. Do you want to walk, or do you want me to carry you?" I asked. In tears, she ran towards me, and I lifted her up. She placed her arm around my neck, looking from all around.

"You'll take me straight to the police station. I'll hurt you if try anything else!" She commanded. I chuckled and began to walk.

"Sure. I won't hurt you. But you know, I'm a stranger too. Why would you come to me?" I asked.

"We're not strangers. I met you last week." She answered honestly. I barked out a laugh.

"I'm not quite sure that's how it works, sweetheart. Be lucky that I helped you. Trust no one else like this. From now on, you go straight home from school, okay?"

She nodded fiercely. She was only four; I suppose she didn't really understand it completely. As I walked, I thought about her temperament. She seemed like a good child, very smart and very independent. Stubborn, literal to a point of distraction, but it'd hopefully fade with age and growing sensibility.

"So why didn't you go home?" I asked, trying to make her feel comfortable. Her eyes lowered.

"Mommy yelled at me this morning. She said that I was being a pain, and that she didn't know why she and Daddy bothered with me at all. She didn't want me anymore, so I didn't go home." She answered softly.

"I don't think she meant it. In fact, I'm sure that she misses you more than anything right now."

"I think so too."

I heard small snoring, and I looked over oddly. She'd fallen asleep, exhausted from what must have been quite the escape. I shook my head, shaking away my feelings of being a protector. This kid w_asn't Ella; _she had a family, and it happened to be of my mortal enemy. I couldn't keep her; there was no point in forming a connection.

Finally, I reached an alley next to the police station. I heard her mother inside sobbing, and her father trying to console her.

"_I'm such a terrible mother! I…I should have never yelled at her this morning, she probably thought I hated her!" _

"Blythe, Nora would never think that—"

Waking Nora up, I placed her on the ground.

"Now, what have we learned today?" I asked her softly.

"Not to talk to strangers, to go straight home, and not to yell at Mommy." She recited.

"Now go." I said, pointing towards the sign. She turned to go, but then turned back around and pulled something off of her arm. Grabbing my hand, she placed something in it.

"Thank you…I'm so sorry I was mean to you. I'll tell Mommy and Daddy you helped me!"

I smiled, but inside I realized I could never let her remember who I was. It was a threat to my safety with Chauncey.

"Just don't get into any more trouble. Listen to your mother, and be sensible. Give the police that wallet." I touched my hand to her head, and erased myself from the memory. She'd think she ran away from a monster. Poor thing; she'd probably have trust issues for the rest of her life now. Placing the wallet of the rapist in her hand, I pushed her towards the station. Hearing her parents walk out, she ran towards them.

"_Mommy! Daddy!" _

Her parents turned, and her mother collapsed to the ground arms wide. Her eyes filled with deliverance.

"Baby!" When Nora landed in her arms, they began to squeeze each other. "I was so worried! _Where have you been?" _

"Mommy! Daddy, I won't run away anymore, I promise!"

As they took her inside, I began to walk the other direction. I opened my hand to see what was there. It was a charm. Angel wings. _Ha! _For saving her, she'd given me a pair of wings. If only the Archangels were this technical. I looked to the sky, waiting sarcastically for something to happen.

"_Well_?"

Nope. Well, damn. Laughing at myself, I glanced back at the charm.

"Go home, little angel. I appreciate your gift. It's a shame I'll never say thanks."

I clutched the charm.

* * *

><p><strong>Present<strong>

The room was still.

I was curled around Nora, clutching her dead body to my own.

**The..._feels... _Don't hate me, I promise the story will get happier from here! Read and review! **


	31. Chapter 30

**Wait...I did it! I know I said Saturday, but I did it! I was able to come up with about 4 more chapters, and I finished one!**

Chapter Thirty

**Past- 2007**

I was sitting in Rixon's studio, waiting, agitated. I'd been there for about an hour or so. He told me that he'd be out late, but I was impatient, I had good news for myself; no _great _news. Normally he'd answer his texts, but tonight was different. Something seemed…off, but I decided not to push it.

I finally had a solid lead on the Book of Enoch. I knew that simply stealing it would have hellish results, but I knew that if I was able to make a secret deal with someone in power, I could finally access it. That's where Pepper Friberg came in. Old Pepper, who'd damned me so easily to Earth, was doing some undercover work. However, I'd busted him at a poker tournament, and the way he'd tried to win was less than savory, especially for an Archangel. In fact, they were downright pathetic and dirty. I'd scared him when he tried to mindtrick the entire table, and I'd blocked him. When he saw me, he blanched, and made a run for it. I cornered him outside of the building, and remembering who I was and my terrible reputation, he'd made a deal with me. He'd get me whatever I wanted as long as I didn't let slip his dirty deeds to the archangels in exchange for some leniency. I immediately asked for the Book, and although he was shocked he'd complied easily, handing me an address. Stupid mistake. So much for doing it the "right" way. It'd been about five years since that meeting, and I'd made sure to light fire under his ass all five of them, letting him know that wherever he was, I'd catch him. I finally had a way to trap him (he couldn't resist a large poker tournament; too much money at stake) it was tonight, and _Rixon _was supposed to be my backup.

Finally, the door opened, and Rixon shuffled in. I stood, pissed off. He smiled, as if I'd let it go.

"Thanks for letting me borrow your hat, mate." He said, tossing it to me.

"Where _the fuck_ have you been? I told you tonight was important." I retorted, catching it.

"Whoa, are you my lady now or what? I had a run-in with Barnabas, that's all. He's been getting sneaky, and I don't like it." When he took off his jacket, I saw the blood on his shirt. When I looked at his hands, they were black, as if he'd been burned. He saw me looking at his hands, and he placed them in his pockets.

"When are you going to learn to not play with your food?" I half joked, sighing. He chuckled.

"When the Devil invites me for ice water in Hell." He answered, sauntering into his room. I rolled my eyes.

"Just shower and hurry the hell up about it. I'm _this _close to catching Pepper, and you're wasting time."

"Touchy. I'll get jazzed up, just for you, love." He teased. He dodged when I chucked a small statue at him.

"Asshole," I murmured. When he went to shower, I went to go examine his clothes. I'd sensed something off about his appearance, but couldn't tell _what _exactly. Lifting his shirt, I saw black dust on the sleeves. Gunpowder. It explained the "burns" on his hands. Apparently he'd gone to antagonize Barnabas, and went through on some threats.

Once again, I shook my head at Rixon's brutality, but it wasn't like I could do anything about it.

* * *

><p><strong>Next week<strong>

I was waiting at a stoplight for the traffic to pass. Apparently this long line was a funeral procession. It was quite the line, and annoyed, I turned on my radio to pass some time.

"_Today, the family of respected accountant Harrison Grey are holding his funeral. Grey was murdered at gunpoint in downtown Coldwater this past weekend; police are still investigating the details_."

My eyebrows rose. Harrison Grey? Chauncey's descendant? When did I miss that? My mind went back a few years, thinking of him. Blond hair, average looks. My mind shifted to the kid that he held in his arms. So it'd been that long, hm? She'd be a young woman by now. I wondered what she was like; I pictured a girly, freckled preteen, who ran for school council and screamed over B's and boy bands and played soccer. A girl who bossed others around, a know-it-all. I chuckled as I imagined a larger version of that tiny girl, throwing a ball at the referee for carding her.

Morbidly curious, I turned and followed the tail end of the procession. When they parked in a church lot, I parked across the street to wait. Wasn't going to push my luck in the Big Guy's house. Eventually, the people began to shuffle out. A sobbing woman came out, who I assumed to be his wife. She left the arms of what I could see as a young woman wearing a large black sunhat, and fell into the arms of another (relative?) The young woman trailed back, waiting for another, a blonde, to catch up. When the young woman lifted her head, I fell back into my seat in awe.

_Who in the hell was that?_

She wore a completely black ensemble; a black overcoat and black dress that clung all the way to her knees, fitting her soft shape well. She wore wrist length black gloves. It was a very classy effect. The black contrasted with her pale skin, which seemed to glow. Her long, curling red hair shone underneath the hat, falling to her shoulder blades. Her lips, painted with red lipstick, were sensuous. Only her eyes, a bright, intelligent gray, showed her emotions. The way she walked suggested self-confidence; modesty; strength; and I was captivated by the way she carried herself with a certain regality.

She was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.

There was no way…there was _no way _that was the little waif I'd saved all those years ago. All I could picture was freckles and little hands. What was it I'd been expecting? And there had to be a rule against looking so lovely at a funeral.

I hadn't felt more than lustful desire for a woman in centuries, and yet this girl, _Nora Grey_, was able to captivate me.

I watched as the blonde held her, and Nora's shoulders began to shake as she cried in the girl's arms. I was kind of upset that she'd turned away from me, but then I realized where she was. Her father's funeral. As the girl led her away, I debated following. I decided that it wasn't the day to do so. I'd have to run into her though later, maybe if she was downtown or…

_What am I doing? _

I was sitting there, plotting like a little school boy, trying to see her again. I was a fallen angel, and her ancestor was _still _my enemy. I couldn't sit around trying to mess around with her! Besides…something about her was so…_vulnerable. _She was alone…I could fix that…

_NO. _

Shaking my head, I pulled away as quickly as possible. She was only, what, fifteen? I didn't need this. I didn't need her. I needed to get back on track. Becoming human.

_If you became human, you could be with her. Better move within her lifetime. Just saying. _

And now I was talking to myself. But once I'd said it, I couldn't get it out of my head.

I couldn't get _her _out of my head.

**Read and review! **


	32. Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

**Present**

"Let me clean her."

I stared up at Vee. She'd broken the silence, and she stared at me calmly despite the protective and feral look on my face. She continued when I said nothing.

"She doesn't need to wake up in her own filth. It smells like death in here, and on her. She's covered in blood. Get her some sweats, a comfortable shirt, and some underwear. I'll wash her. She deserves to wake up in some sort of comfort."

The room felt frozen. It was like being in a wake. I almost refused, pulling Nora closer to me. Nehemiah pulled me back slowly. Vee walked out, and I heard the tub fill with water.

"It will be better for her. Vee, as well. Focus on getting ready for her return. You should change the sheets; they're disgusting. It will make her happy to wake up in comfort, surrounded by friends."

I knew that Nehemiah was the expert. I nodded quietly, and slowly lifted Nora towards Vee, who'd reentered the room. When I saw her full body, I noticed that even her pores and lower area had been bleeding. When she carried her away, I went to Nora's armoire and pulled out her favorite sweats, a camisole and the underwear that Vee asked for.

Vee had apparently had a bag in her car, because she'd brought her own spare change of clothes, and she took them into the bathroom. I knocked quietly, and she opened the door enough to take the clothes, and locked the door behind her. I sat down on the ground outside of the door, listening to them. Nehemiah stared from the bedroom door.

_Vee needs her time to cope as well. She is Nora's closest friend. It would hurt her deeply to actually lose Nora. Give her a chance; be patient. _

I nodded curtly. He walked into the kitchen, and came back with a glass of water.

_I'm going to go switch with Ezra. _

I eyeballed the glass of water.

_Elliot needs to live, remember? He needs to drink something. _

I nodded again, and he went into the chamber behind the bedroom. I turned to listen to Vee with Nora.

I heard water moving, and soft yet vigorous scrubbing. Vee was having a one-sided conversation, almost as if Nora wasn't gone at all.

"Look at us, babe. Immortal, adults, and _still _getting into trouble the way we did as teens. Ah, those days. We're still that silly." More water. "From about age six to fifteen, I was always the one getting us in trouble. Taking crayons, to sneaking to talk in the bathroom, to throwing milk cartons at Marcie, to scandalous boy talks. Except you never did the talks, you just listened. You always listened, even when my ideas were crazy. Always so sensible. Then, you met Patch, and all of a sudden you were causing as much trouble as me. You tried to _protect _me; you tried your hardest, even though I wish you'd have told me so much earlier. But you were so happy with him, and I, you know _eventually_, was happy you were happy. Through it all, we've been each other's conscience. You're the angel on my shoulder, and I'm the little demon on yours. _We've always been together_."

I heard her begin to cry, although she was still laughing.

"I'm so sorry you had to suffer all on your own. I wish I'd have been there; if I hadn't left you, Elliot wouldn't have been able to walk in the room. Of course, it was _your _idea I leave, but I should have told you 'No', that I wouldn't leave until you were better. I'm going to need you to stop getting into so much trouble, babe. _Especially_ without me. We're best friends, you know? I was terrified, knowing you would have to die. It…it reminded me of when Scott died. I already lost him; I couldn't lose you too. Who would keep me in check? Who'd buy donuts with me? You don't get to leave me, not after all the crap we've been through…"

My heart was aching by this point, so I had to get up. It was Vee's time with Nora, and it was private. Walking into the bedroom, I ripped the sheets off of the bed. Finding her favorite black silk ones, I replaced them. I went to the sink, threw the bloody ones in it, and set them on fire with a little accelerant.

While I was watching them burn, Ezra stumbled into the kitchen and poured himself some water. He looked exhausted. So did Nehemiah. While we'd healed from the main injuries, our bodies were still tired from the stress. He smiled wearily at me, and I tried to return it.

_You think you could get us all some blankets or something? _He asked. So they were staying, then. Okay.

I nodded, and went to a closet to go get them. I tossed Ezra a blanket and pillow, and he dragged the small French couch into the bedroom. Immediately, he fell asleep.

An hour later, Vee finally came out, freshly showered, with a clean Nora in tow. She looked better already, with all of the blood washed away. She was still deathly pale, but her skin lesions were already healing. Vee laid her down on her back onto the sheets and tucked her in. She left, and came back with a pitcher of water and some glasses.

She held one towards me, but I shook my head. Filling one, she drank it.

"It's for Nora when she wakes up. She'll have to be thirsty." Seeing the pillows and blankets I'd found, she took one of each and laid down next to Nora. She soon fell asleep, holding Nora's hand.

Nehemiah came out of the chamber, and closed it behind him.

_He's unconscious. I see no issues from him in the future. If you don't oppose, I'd like to rest my mind. _

I nodded, and he grabbed a blanket and fell asleep on a chair on the other side of the room. It had to be uncomfortable, but they couldn't feel it anyway.

I looked around the room. All of them were knocked out, exhaustion plain on their faces. I was exhausted as well, probably more so than any of them, more so than I'd ever been. The stress of the night had affected us all. Still, I didn't want to fall asleep. I didn't have the patience to fall asleep, and I didn't know how they were pulling it off.

I was pretty grateful for them. Even Vee. If Ezra and Nehemiah hadn't been there for me at Elliot's ambush, I may not have been able to take Elliot down as quickly, and he'd have made Nora suffer more than she did. And Vee was moral support for Nora, regardless of how much I liked her.

Standing, I went to my wardrobe. I opened the small drawer where I kept cufflinks, and began searching. Ah, there it was. I lifted out the tiny pair of wings, and clipped them to my silver chain. I then removed the chain and placed it around Nora's neck.

"I'm here when you wake, Angel."

I kissed her softly on the lips and lay down next to her.

"Always."

I closed my eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>Hours Later<strong>

**Nora's POV**

I opened my eyes, unable to move. From the way the ceiling looked and the bed felt, I realized in was in my and Patch's bedroom. I sighed internally. My suffering, it was finally over. I'd made it.

**Sorry y'all, I've been kind of busy. Exam tomorrow; crunch time tonight! Figured I'd give you this chapter before I vanished again! Read and Review!**


	33. Chapter 32

**So, thanks to the blizzard sweeping Northeast America, I didn't have class today, which meant no exam until Wednesday! So, today I've been doing Homework, but to celebrate the occasion, I thought I'd post a new chapter. The next one is kind of slow in coming, but it'll be together by Friday! **

Chapter Thirty-two

**Present- Nora's POV**

It was the worst pain I'd ever suffered through in my life. Who ever thought that the worst pain I'd ever feel in my life would be dealt by a _human? _

When Elliot left the hospital room, I felt an uncomfortable sensation, like a bee sting on my arm. When I tried to reach for it, my arm felt heavy. Slowly, I lifted the arm with the sting. It suddenly inflamed into something akin to a lighter on my skin. I looked at my arm, and I saw the skin begin to turn an ugly starched color. My eyes widened, and I tried to call for help, but all I could let out was a tiny screech. The heart monitor showed my heart beating faster and faster with my panic, and it only made the pain worse. _Where were the nurses?!_

Hours later, I was writhing in my own blood. It could be compared to many things. Swords carving my skin away. Needles being stabbed into my pores. My body being ripped apart. _Hellfire. _All of those combined. I couldn't breathe without choking on throw-up, blood, and eventually what felt like my insides. My heart was beating slowly, yet it felt like with every beat I'd feel the sharp pain _again and again. _Whenever my eyes popped open, all I could see was a blood red haze.

I kept wishing for death. Over and over, I wished that I would just get it all over with. At first, I called out for Patch. I called for Patch, and then I called for my mom. After a while, I couldn't even focus enough to call for them. All I could do was pray for death. The pain covered every thought, driving out any logic or sense. It didn't even fade towards the end. The last time I opened my eyes, I glimpsed Patch staring at me with concern pouring from his eyes. Then it hit me. It was enough for me to realize why I was suffering.

I deserved it. If I hadn't gone behind his back, tried to make a deal around him, I wouldn't be in the situation I was in. It was the final insult to injury, and I lost it. I couldn't remember anything after that. Death had been the best relief I'd ever experienced. It wasn't until it was over, and I was relaxing in limbo, that I realized all of what had occurred.

I was dead, and everyone was waiting for me back on the other side. I was Nephilim, so I knew I'd return. Yet, for an odd reason, that fact wasn't weighing on me the way it should have been. In fact, I didn't care too much. I _was_ curious about where I was. I was floating, the sky around me a light baby blue, and there was a comfortable wind blowing. I almost didn't want to leave, and I stretched my arms and legs.

"Lookin' worse for wear, Grey."

I started, and swiveled around.

_Scott!_

He floated there, perfectly at ease. I flew into him, holding him tight.

"I saw what all happened down there. Pretty rough. Thought you were smarter than that, Grey."

I punched him in the arm, and he laughed. The joyous tone of it made me smile. I'd missed that laugh.

"Do you hear me? When I thank you?" I pled, holding his hands.

"Every time. It was an honor." He said solemnly. I began to tear up in relief, and placed my head back in his chest.

"How long do we have?" I asked. He rubbed his chin.

"Well, time is weird here. To be honest, it doesn't exist really. In your case, you could wake up minutes or months later."

I blanched at the idea of being stuck for months in a coma. I supposed, though, that if I got to spend time with Scott it'd be okay. He looked up, seeing someone approach, and I turned.

"Am I late? She's still here right?"

A girl with caramel skin and long dark hair approached me quickly. I hadn't realized that a floor had appeared, and we were standing on it. She was breathless when she stopped in front of me.

"I was so worried you'd gone back already! You're Nora Grey, right? _Ooooh, _I've been watching y'all! It's like a soap opera! Anyway, I'm so glad Patch has found somebody; you're so perfect together!"

She said all of this with one breath. I stared at her, questioning.

"Um…" She smacked her head when she saw my confusion.

"Don't pass out from excitement," Scott teased her.

"I'm so sorry. Let me start over." She held out her hand. "I'm Ella. I'm one of Patch's old friends. We met before you were born. Nowadays, I sing with Scott; that's how we're friends!" When I shook her hand, she seemed satisfied, and shifted into a calm, solemn state.

"Can you tell Patch something for me?" she asked, looking firmly at me. "I need you to tell him that I'm not upset with him. He did well, and it's not his fault."

"Why would you be? What happened?" I asked. She smiled sadly.

"He holds much regret over my death. He was like my older brother, you know? He thought that, when I died, that he didn't do his job. That he wasn't protecting me well enough. That's why he's so protective over you; he feels the need to do better. It terrifies him to no end, you know, the idea of losing you. I'm so glad he's found you. You soothe his soul, and make him feel like he's doing something right. You redeem him in so many ways. He loves and appreciates that you see that heart he has, when all anyone else sees is a troublemaker, or a demon. A bad guy. _I_ need you to listen to him, when he tries to speak to you. _He_ needs you to listen. As for me, you'll tell him what I said?"

I was touched by her care of Patch, and her words made me contemplate. "Of course, Ella. Thank you for being there for him."

Ella smiled serenely. "Thank you. I can leave happy now. Scott, don't be late for practice!" With that, she turned and danced out of the room.

"Does she always…"

"Talk a mile a minute? Yep. She's got a good set of pipes for singing, though. I was surprised when she said she knew Patch. He scares the crap out of me, so I can only imagine how she was bold enough to deal with him. Then again, that girl could take on tigers by commanding them to stop." Scott said, laughing softly. I laughed with him.

"He has a soft spot for those he cares about. You just weren't one of them."

He laughed. "True. As for Elliot, you'll be doing the world a favor in ridding it of him. He's a dirty man."

I nodded, firm. "Has he done more than just killing that girl?"

Scott nodded. "He's gotten into a lot of trouble. He's a coward. He works using his medicines and chemicals. He's assaulted women using roofies, and killed other adversaries with other types of stuff. He uses his family's pharmacy. He's smart about it too; makes me think he could have been a scientist if he weren't so crooked."

I was disgusted. "What a bastard."

He nodded, then looked over me. "You'll be all right, Grey. I have faith in that. Give your scary man a chance. Do what you need to do when you get back. Give Elliot an entrance into Hell that he can't ignore."

He stepped away from me, and I felt the ground underneath me wobble.

"Scott?"

He smiled sadly. "Be grateful you have another chance. Tell Vee I said hello, and check on my mom for me, okay?"

Horrified, I reached out for him, but the ground vanished, and I began to fall from the blue sky and into a white light, farther and farther away from him.

* * *

><p>I felt my soul slam into my body.<p>

Shocked by the weight, and discomfort, I sensed around me. Turning my head, I saw Vee asleep next to me. On the other side of me, Patch lay asleep. Even in rest, he seemed to be on edge, waiting for something to happen. I smiled. I had returned, and everyone was here for me. Not wanting to wake them, I slowly lifted myself. They both must have been exhausted, because neither of them awoke at the weight shift.

Feeling thirsty, and needing to clear my throat, my eyes widened at the pitcher of water. Problem was, it was across Vee's body. Damn. I didn't want to disturb anyone. Looked like I'd be waiting.

_You had quite the experience, didn't you? _

Nehemiah's eyes were barely opened, and he hadn't moved at all.

_I saw you coming. Angel of Death trick, _he said, smiling lightly.

I nodded, and I saw something sparkle on my chest. I looked down, and Patch's necklace lay around my neck. Something shined on it; a pair of angel wings. I gasped quietly.

_I lost these when I was little! I was so upset about it!_

My dad had bought me the charm when I'd liked them at a jewelry store. There had been an issue, something I could vaguely remember, but when I told him I'd lost them, he always said that I'd been saved by an Angel and that he took those wings to get back home. I wondered at fate. When had Patch found this? It had to be the same wings; they looked exactly the same!

_It's a story Patch could tell you. Shall I awake them? _

I looked down at Patch's face. He had to have been worried near to death. His exhaustion and devastation showed plain on his face.

_It's up to you, Nora. He's been through quite the ordeal, watching you suffer alone. He didn't even want to sleep. It will make him happy to see you, however._

I looked back down at him. I saw some scarred skin on the side of his face, and it disturbed me. I lifted some hair, and the spots continued onto his scalp. I went rigid.

_We were ambushed. Elliot shot us all. They'll vanish within a few hours._

I began to stroke his hair and face. Without waking, he lifted his head and placed it on my hand.

"Angel…" he murmured.

It made me tear up in happiness.

_No. Let him sleep. He'll awake when he's ready. _

Nehemiah went silent, and I could tell he'd gone back to sleep.

I was ready to forgive Patch for anything. I couldn't believe I'd ever questioned coming back home; what would he do without me? We needed to talk, and I needed to beg forgiveness.

It was Elliot I was feeling less than gracious towards. I had to trust that Patch had caught him already, or if he hadn't, he was in the process. Elliot killed me in the most torturous way possible. Nehemiah and Ezra were injured defending Patch. He'd hurt Patch, and that hurt me the most because I _knew _he could feel every bullet. Every single bullet, all because of me. He could have even hurt Vee as well. These people had become my lifelines; my friends; my lover. He wasn't going to get away with it. I wanted to know _why _he did what he did, and I wanted him to _suffer_ for everything he'd done. I wouldn't let Patch take him down. He deserved rest. It would be up to me; I'd fight for him this time.

_Give Elliot an entrance into Hell that he can't ignore. _

While I waited for Patch to awake, I began to plan Elliot's demise.

**Read and Review! And you guys are so silly; when I post Past chapters you're like "what's happening in the present?!" when I post Present chapter you're like "what's happening in the past?!" I don't know if the chapters are that good or if anyone's confused or what but it's slightly funny :3 **


	34. Chapter 33

**Hey guys! So, I've got exams next week too lol. But, because I didn't think you all would forgive me if I went _two_ weeks without a chapter, I typed this monster up today! This one took a good amount of effort to write...whoo-wee! **

Chapter Thirty-Three

**Patch's POV**

**Past- 2007**

I sat at the poker table in Bo's sensing the emotions of the other players. It was trick of mine; poker face or not, people can't help their feelings about a hand they're going to play, and at the moment there was a wholesome sense of dread. Good, because I had an excellent hand, and there was plenty of money to be made. I was going to make a lot of money tonight.

As soon as I was about to place all my chips in, the cashier approached me loudly. People did that a lot; unconsciously announcing their presence before they approached me. I might hurt someone who tried to sneak up on me.

"Someone upstairs wants a word with you." He said. I rose my eyebrows. _Who are they, and what the hell do they want while I'm in such an important game? _He answered my silent question.

"She wouldn't give her name. I asked a couple of times. I told her you were in a private game, but she wouldn't leave. I can throw her out if you want."

I thought about it. Maybe it was a fallen angel issue; I couldn't imagine someone standing up to the cashier just to see _me, _without being they hadn't mindtricked him. Slightly curious, I shook my head.

"No. Send her down." Looking back at the table, I decided to take what was left. I collected all of the money, and left the table. I could have made so much more. No matter; if the business wasn't worth it, I'd beat it out of this person _and_ their boss. I walked over to the pool table near the stairs and put my hands in my pockets, thinking. I could always just take the money from the winner…but that would be beneath me, wouldn't it...

I heard light footsteps, and faced the sound. When I locked eyes with the person on the stairs, I could have jumped out of my skin.

_Dabria. Dabria!?_

She wore a pink tanktop, some jeans, and her hair was straightened. Maybe the attempt to suck on a lollipop was to make her look…innocent? I fixed my face.

While the word that came to mind was "_bitch!" _I maintained my civility.

"Dabria?" I asked warily. She smiled, and threw the lollipop away.

"How have you been?" she asked. Her voice grated on my ears. This…this was the woman who spitefully had me thrown from Heaven, and I was supposed to believe she was here to see how I was doing? Bullshit. She wasn't fallen; she was here on a mission.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

"I sneaked out. I had to see you again. I've been trying for a long time—" _Yeah, for centuries right? _"but security—well, you know. It's not exactly lax. Your kind and my kind—we aren't supposed to mix. But you know that." She said, smiling.

"Coming here was a bad idea." I was already tempted to hurt her. Among other things. Pushing my patience was always a bad thing, but her mere presence was an insult.

"I know it's been awhile, but I was hoping for a slightly more friendly reaction." She said, pouting.

Did I once like to kiss those lips? Those lips, that turned on me? That were my sentence? I couldn't believe I'd once _liked _this person. Not to mention, _"friendly"_? No one had ever approached me with such audacity. "Friendly"! Ha! She was still an angel. She still had it all. And she was practically throwing it in my face, while acting like nothing had ever occurred between us. I was seething. Seeing that I wouldn't respond to her garbage, she kept talking.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you." She lowered her voice, trying to sound seductive. She stepped forward, and I didn't move. "It wasn't easy getting down here. Lucianna is making excuses for why I'm absent. I'm risking her future as well as my own. Don't you want to at least hear what I have to say?"

Lucianna. Her bitchy best friend that had never trusted me, now helping her. Shit was really off. Still, she had a point.

"Talk." I commanded. Her eyes widened, and she looked delighted.

"I haven't given up on you. This whole time—"she paused to wipe tears away. Why was she being so…_false? _"I know how you can get your wings back."

She smiled at me, but I didn't return it. I'd love the information, but I'd rather burn before I let her see it.

"As soon as you get wings back, you can come home. Everything will be like it was before. Nothing has changed, not really."

"What's the catch?" I was dealing with the powers that be, meaning the Archangels. Nothing was so easy.

"There is no catch. You have to save a human life. Very judicious, considering the crime that banished you here in the first place." I heard the edge in her voice when she said this, and I immediately determined that I couldn't trust her. She was a snake in the grass, set by someone else. She had her own ulterior motive. _What was it?_

"What rank will I be?" I was an Archangel by birthright; I would accept nothing less than my original place. Her face fell, and she answered me condescendingly.

"I just told you how to get your wings back! I think I deserve a thank you—"

"Answer the question." _Get on with it. _She rolled her eyes and huffed.

"Fine. You'll be a guardian, all right?"

I began to laugh. So, my angelic status would be completely based on some random human. I wasn't Robert; I wasn't so gracious. I had no intention of being so tied down, not when I could have all the freedom I wanted as a human.

"What's wrong with being a guardian? Why isn't it good enough?" Dabria demanded.

"I have something better in the works." Much better. Stupid girl. Thinking I'd pounce on her offer.

"Listen to me, Patch." She knew my nickname. Probably to feel 'closer'. "There's _nothing _better. You're kidding yourself. Any other fallen angel would jump at the chance to get their wings back and become a guardian. Why can't you?" Dabria practically choked out the words. She was so used to getting her way, and my rejection even_ after _being_ fallen _was really stinging her. It made my next words evilly joyous.

"It was good seeing you again, Dabria. Have a nice trip back."

Suddenly, she pulled me towards her and kissed me. I almost pushed her away, disgusted. Then I realized that I could use her emotion to my advantage. Something was going on behind the scenes, and I wanted to know what it was. I had a feeling that I was onto something big. I softened my stance, and let her melt into me.

"I should go, I've already stayed too long. I promised Lucianna I'd hurry." She sounded so content; it was morbidly adorable when I was playing her. "I miss you. Save one human life, and you'll have your wings again. _Come back to me_," she said intensely. "_Come home." _I looked into her eyes, and in that moment I realized that while she may have still had feelings for me, it was also about control. She wanted it over me. It was a game. It was _all a game, and_ _she honestly thought she could out-bluff me. _I was insulted; they'd sent a rookie. She pulled away.

"I have to go. None of the others can find out I've been down here. I love you." She turned away, and before she could hide it I saw the look of confidence and relief on her expression. I caught her by the wrist, throwing her off guard.

_My turn. _"Now tell me why you're really here." I warned. I pushed her towards the bar and sat her on a stool. Taking what would look like a casual stance to outsiders, I looked her in her surprised eyes.

"What do you mean, what am I here for?" she stammered, thrown off her script. "I told you—"

"You're lying."

"I can't believe, you think—"She had the nerve to look insulted. Please.

"Tell me the truth, _right now." _I threatened softly. She hesitated, trying to see if she could try to pull another scene over me. Seeing that she couldn't, she glared.

"Fine. I know what you're planning to do." She said. I smiled. She sounded so sure, so successful, as if she were going to _tattle_ on me. And what exactly did she think she knew?

"I know you've heard rumors about _The Book of Enoch. _I also know you think you can do the same thing, but you can't."

_Aha! _This _was _the Archangels. They must feel nervous, which means that whatever I was doing, or wherever I was, I was doing something right. "They sent you here to persuade me to choose a different course, didn't they?" They'd miscalculated. They knew I was proud, and then they sent my ex to convince me. Thought that I'd be nostalgic. Sad. "If I'm a threat, the rumors must be true."

"No, they're not. They're _rumors!" _Spoken like a child.

"If it happened once, it can happen again." She looked at me like I was crazy.

"It _never _happened. Did you even _bother_ to read _The Book of Enoch_ before you fell? Do you know exactly what it says, word for holy word?"

_Not completely._ "Maybe you could loan me your copy," I teased. Dabria gasped.

"That's blasphemous! You're _forbidden_ to read it! You betrayed every angel in heaven when you fell." She screeched, sounding like a matron.

"How many of them know what I'm after? How big of a threat am I?" If I was a large threat, it meant other angels would be sniffing around for my information, and that meant I needed to move faster.

She shook her head. "I can't tell you that. I've already told you more than I should have."

I was persistent. "Are they going to try to stop me?"

"The avenging angels will."

I felt a moment of irony as I pictured Ezra among those sent to stop me. It pained me. I looked at Dabria, contemplating.

"Unless they think you talked me out of it."

Her eyes widened, and she subconsciously shook her head. "Don't look at me like that." She was already wavering. "I won't lie to protect you. What you're trying to do is wrong. It's not natural."

"Dabria." I spoke her name softly in warning. If she wouldn't do what I wanted, I'd make sure she wouldn't return to Heaven.

"I can't help you. Not that way." She was almost begging me. "Put it out of your mind. Become a guardian angel…" I zoned her out, thinking of a plan.

"Tell them we talked, and I showed interest in becoming a guardian." Yes, that ought to give me more time…

"Interest?" she asked me, shocked.

"Interest." It was all coming together… "Tell them I asked for a name. If I'm going to save a life, I need to know who's at the top of your departing list. I know you're privy to that information as an angel of death." I knew just what Dabria could and couldn't do. It was a perfect information link to Heaven.

She began to debate me, but I interrupted her.

"One name, Dabria."

"Promise me you'll forget about _The Book of Enoch _first. Give me your word."

_As if. _"You'd trust my word?"

"No, I wouldn't."

_Oookay. _I got up, picking up a toothpick, and began walking away.

_Five, four, three…_

"Patch, wait! Patch, please wait!"

_Two, one. Yes? _I looked over my shoulder, expectant.

"Nora Grey!" she spouted, then placed her hands over her mouth.

What? _Her? _I pictured the beautiful girl I'd seen a few months ago. I'd followed her a few times afterwards, watching. I could never approach her, as I'd never had a reason. I couldn't help but feel kind of irritated; I guess saving her when she was little really didn't count. _Damn…_ Her beauty still struck me every time I saw her. I coveted Nora Grey, and refused for anything to happen to her. She was mine.

"How is she going to die?"

"Someone wants to kill her." _Obviously. _

"Who?"

"I don't know. There's so much noise and commotion down here. All the images blur together, they come to fast, I can't see clearly. I need to go home. I need peace and calm."

Nehemiah always made a better Angel of Death than her; his inner peace and talent always irritated Dabria and she'd talk about him enviously when we were together. I placed a piece of her hair behind her ear, looking at her sweetly. _Cut the bullshit and tell me what I want to know. _

"I can't see…I don't see anything…it's useless." She whimpered.

"Who wants to kill Nora Grey?" I urged.

"Wait, I see her…there's a shadow behind her…" Dabria kept babbling, and I was getting annoyed until she inhaled sharply.

"Who?" I demanded. She placed her hands around her mouth.

"You." She whimpered.

I was shocked. _Why would I kill Nora Grey? _It…it had to do with her being a descendant of Chauncey's. Something wasn't adding up. She was just a fifteen year old girl. Was she the way that…_that I could become human? But that would mean…_

Suddenly it all made sense. Who knew I was so close? The Archangels, apparently! I needed to contemplate my newly laid options. I rushed up the stairs and out of the bar, vaguely noticing Dabria running behind me.

"What are you going to do?! You can't go kill her! If you do I'll...I'll tell them what you're up to!" she whined. I turned to her.

"I have no intention of doing so! If I did, you'd be in a lot more danger. Remember what I told you. I displayed interest in being a guardian."

"But, Patch!" I jumped into my car, ignoring her cries.

"Thank you, Dabria! You've always been my special girl, and know that I love and appreciate this!" I called, smiling as I knew she'd take the compliment. She stopped, and blushed.

"Rea—"

I pulled off into the night. I had so many things to plan.

**So? I was trying to portray Patch's bitterness. I think I did okay. Although, to be honest, after typing this one out, I'm not sure if I'm capable of typing the entire _Hus-_nope, I've gone and said too much. Anyway, read and review!**


	35. Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

**Patch's POV**

**October 2007**

I sat in the cemetery. It was an odd place to be, I know, but it was the calmest, quietest place I could find to think in. The mist lay over the grass, and I knew that if I could feel, I'd be freezing. As I sat there, an old song came to mind that I liked. _Bohemian Rhapsody, _by Queen. It always carried a sense of irony with me. I began to hum it, occasionally murmuring a lyric. My voice came out dry and worn, and I stopped. There was a day I could have belted out that song with no problem…now, not so much. I wasn't worried too much on that. I stared off into space as I yet again contemplated my choice.

Nora Grey. I'd followed her around ever since Dabria had visited, discovering where she lived, the types of things that she did, and what she liked and didn't. I found out what school she went to, and I decided to enroll during the spring. She was like a puzzle, and I wanted to figure her out so badly. It was such a w_aste, _I felt, killing her. But I couldn't let her live. Beautiful as she was, interesting as she could possibly be, I'd waited and worked tirelessly through centuries for the chance to make humanity my reality. I wasn't going to give it up over some soft feelings. Still, I couldn't imagine walking up and killing her. It wasn't a "good enough" sacrifice. Therefore, to assuage any guilt I had (and to make it official), I decided that I could spend time around her first. I needed to get closer to her anyway, which was why enrolling in her school was a brilliant move. I kept trying to convince myself that she was just a regular girl. I'd killed before and felt no scruples; why now should I feel anything? I was doing like Rixon said, overthinking things, and I needed to stop. I'd made a plan, and I needed to go through with it.

I turned towards the sound of walking. _Speaking of the devil, _Rixon's head appeared from the fog. He'd been gone for a couple of months, spending time back in Ireland with his old friends. I felt no need to ever return to the commune, but he apparently missed it.

"Moonlighting with the dead?" he asked me. He leaned against another gravestone, looking at me oddly. "Let me guess. You've got it in your mind to possess the dead?" he teased, shaking his head. "I don't know. Maggots squirming in your eyeholes…and your other orifices, might be carrying things a bit far."

_Ha, ha, asshole. _"This is why I keep you around, Rixon. Always seeing things from the bright side."

Rixon smirked. "Cheshvan starts tonight. What are you doing arsing around in a graveyard?"

Cheshvan did start that night. I hadn't put too much thought into it. It was the same thing every year; nothing too exciting.

"Thinking."

He snorted. "Thinking?"

I smirked. _Yes, thinking. _"A process by which I use my brain to make a rational decision."

Rixon frowned. "I'm starting to worry about you. Come on. Time to go. Chauncey Langeais and Barnabas await. The moon turns at midnight. I confess I've got my eye on a betty in town. I know you like them red, but I like em' fair, and once I get into a body, I intend to take care of unfinished business with a blonde who was making eyes at me earlier."

_Oh, Rixon. _I sighed internally. I knew he was only teasing, but in my mind, Cheshvan was becoming more than irrelevant. Not with the possibility of so much more at hand.

"Are you daft? We've got to _go." _He whined._ "_Chauncey's oath of fealty. Not ringing a bell? How about this. You're a fallen angel. You can't feel a thing. Until tonight, that is. The next two weeks are Chauncey's gift to you. Given unwillingly, mind you," he pushed, grinning.

_Damn Chauncey's oath of fealty! _I wanted to shout. Rixon had just listed every reason as to why I wanted to be a human. If anything, now I really didn't want to move. I glanced at Rixon, changing the topic.

"What do you know about _The Book of Enoch_?" I'd dragged Rixon on more than enough missions, but it hardly seemed like he ever paid any attention.

"About as much as any fallen angel. Slim to none." No attention at all, then.

"I was told there's a story in _The Book of Enoch. _About a fallen angel who becomes human." I was completely serious, but Rixon fell over in laughter. Hmph.

"You lost your mind, mate? _The Book of Enoch_ is a bedtime story. And a good one by the looks of it. Sent you straight to dreamland."

Dreamland indeed. I looked at the moon, into the heavens. "I want a human body." There. I'd declared it, out loud.

"You'd best be happy with two weeks and a Nephil's body. Half human is better than nothing. Chauncey can't undo what's been done. He swore an oath, and he has to live up to it. Just like last year. And the year before that—"

I cut my eyes to him, daring him to laugh anymore. He was supposed to be supporting me, and here he was still laughing when I finally had everything set.

"Two weeks isn't enough. I want to be human. Permanently."

I hadn't felt this level of determination since I'd first left Heaven. It was refreshing, although if I were being logical, I'd have remembered that it also got me banished.

Rixon stopped laughing, and ran his hands through his hair. "_The Book of Enoch _is a fairytale. We're fallen angels, not humans. We never were human, and we never will be. End of story. Now quit arsing around and help me figure out which is the way to Portland."

I didn't need his negativity. I'd do it, with his support or without. "I'm going to become human." I wouldn't let my slight care for Nora Grey stop me. I wouldn't change my mind.

Rixon sighed. "Sure, mate, you can."

"_The Book of Enoch _says I have to kill my Nephil vassal. I have to kill Chauncey." _By killing his lovely descendant as well. A sad trade off, but…stop thinking about it! _

"No, you don't." Rixon replied, getting impatient at my stubbornness. "You've got to _possess _him. A process by which you take his body and use it as your own." I rolled my eyes. I'm sure he felt pretty awesome using my words back at me. "Not to put a damper on things, but you can't kill Chauncey. Nephilim can't die. And have you thought of this? If you could kill him, you couldn't possess him."

I had to resist the urge to tease "_But, Rixon_!" Couldn't he understand the depth of my determination? Could he not see how _possessed _I was with this idea?

"If I kill him, I'll become human and I won't need to possess him." It was perfect.

He sighed and pinched in between his eyes. "If we could kill Nephilim, we would have found a way by now. I'm sorry to tell you, lad, but if I don't get into the arms of that blond betty soon, my brains will bake. And a few other parts of my—"

_Enough. I need an opinion. _"Two choices." I stated.

"Eh?"

"Save a human life and become a guardian angel, or kill your Nephil vassal and become human. Take your pick."

"Is this more Book of Enoch rubbish?" he asked.

"Dabria paid me a visit." I revealed. I hadn't told him this before now.

Rixon's eyes widened, and he snorted. I told him more than once how crazy she was, and how much I realized I couldn't stand her over the years. He knew this was a bombshell.

"Your psychotic ex? What's she doing down here? Did she fall? Lost her wings, did she?"

"She came down here to tell me I can get my wings back if I save a human life."

His eyes widened. "If you trust her, I say go for it. Nothing wrong with being a guardian. Spending your days keeping mortals out of danger…could be fun, depending on the mortal you're assigned."

Valid point. "But if you had a choice?" I pushed.

"Aye, well, my answer depends on one very important distinction. Am I roaring drunk…or have I completely lost my mind?"

I stared at him. I had no time for his humor. He sobered up quickly at my face.

"There's no choice. And here's why. I don't believe in _The Book of Enoch. _If I were you, I'd aim for guardianship. I'm half considering the deal myself. Too bad I don't know any humans on the brink of death."

He seemed so determined not to believe in me. Rixon, the person who'd come up with the most outlandish plans, crazy escapades, and insane ideals, decides on this, the most _important decision of my life, _to be conservative and crack jokes. Honestly…what was his deal? It may have been because he was worried about me. Or because he had a tendency to see things in black and white. Maybe I was being too serious about it… Either way, I had a plan in motion, and I wasn't going to let it drop. He'd have my back regardless. Thinking about things would no longer suffice; now was the time for action. I shook my head.

"How much money can we make before midnight?" I asked him. Rixon's stance relaxed, and he smiled.

"Playing cards or boxing?"

"Cards." I always made more money in cards. Rixon's eyes flashed in mischief.

"What do we have here?" he teased. "A pretty boy? Come here and let me give you a proper clatter."

He came at me, but I was able to drag him to the ground, swinging. Once upon a time, he could have beaten me easily. Now, not so much.

"All right, all right!" he shouted, throwing his hands up. "Just 'cause I can't feel a bloody lip doesn't mean I want to spend the rest of the night walking around with one." He winked at me. "Won't increase my chances with the ladies."

I smirked at him, glancing with pride at the large shiner he had.

"And a black eye will?" _So much for blond betty! _I teased via mindspeak.

Although he couldn't feel, he instinctively reached up to touch his face.

"You didn't!" he shouted, horrified. He swung at me, but I jumped out of the way and raced down the hillside of the cemetery. I heard him take off after me.

"Come back here! I ought to break that pretty nose of yours, you bastard!"

I laughed, and it echoed into the distance.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chauncey's Diary<strong>_

_What is this?_

_My men have been excellently trained, are growing more and more powerful every day, and as such, I've placed some spies out on Patch. I've been suspicious of him, more than usual. He's…changed. The last Cheshvan I spent enslaved was anti-climactic. He didn't do much at all, besides gamble. He seemed…distracted. Why? My spies have reported to me that he's been following a girl. He's followed her to her home, the library, to her school. He even enrolled in her school! Anywhere she's been, he has been._

_Why?_

_What is it about this girl that makes him observe her so? He has never portrayed any sort of interest in any girl outside of pure carnality. I've done some research on her myself. Nora Grey, daughter of Harrison Grey. Although he was another branch, a distant, indirect descendant, he was still one of the last of my line. It was a pity he was dead. He was murdered apparently. Shame. Barnabas had been miserable that entire week, but had learned not to speak of it. I let him mope; he deserved at least one friend. The girl had practically none of my Nephilim blood; in fact, the one drop of it was stained by Blythe Adams' whore blood. Thank goodness Barnabas dropped her when he did. She had some of those same silly tendencies as his mother, and it would have driven him to distraction._

_So what was it about her that he needed? He didn't need her to use me, and he hadn't simply seduced her, and something told me that it was about more than sex. _

_Why does he need her?_

_The girl wasn't ugly. She looked eerily like the beautiful witch Elizabeth Underwood, if I were being honest. An eerie coincidence. The same red hair, size and shape. I knew nothing about her, and it never occurred to me that I should bother. She was irrelevant, another member of this town._

_Until now._

_What if?_

_If he did, I could finally hold something over him! I could beat Patch at his own twisted game!_

_I needed to know. I needed to get close, get someone near them so that I could find out what I needed to. It was time to jump into the fray on my own. I was almost giddy with the information. If I was honest, this would be my first real move since I'd blown his head off with my Smith and Wesson. It could finally be my leg up; my way to torture him the way he'd tortured me for so long… Unlocking the secret to this girl could be it! I kept repeating the phrase to myself as I planned, almost as a mantra._

_What if Patch has fallen in love with Nora Grey? _


	36. Chapter 35

**So, happy Valentine's Day! I just typed this today, too. I wanted to give you guys pictures of what Nehemiah, Ezra and Vee looked like, but they won't let me post them. :'( I found the perfect pictures too. A beautiful chocolate Nehemiah, a handsome tanned Ezra, and pretty Vee...I'm kind of mad it won't let me post them. If you know of anyway for me to share them, tell me, because I want you all to see them! Anyway, as begged, a Present chapter!**

Chapter Thirty-Five

**Present- Patch's POV**

I stirred in my sleep, and opened my eyes. I could hardly see, my sight was so blurry. I must have been exhausted. I could feel someone rubbing my face, and I heard a light voice murmuring a song.

"_A dream, is a wish…" _

I never took Nora for a Disney girl. She had a nice voice, actually, alto and smooth…

Suddenly, everything that had happened the night before came back to me, and I slowly looked up at my Angel. She noticed me move my head, because she looked down at me, and smiled.

Deliverance. That was the only feeling I can compare it to.

_Move slowly, she's still adjusting. _I heard Nehemiah hint. He sat silently in his chair, still not "awake". I sat up, and brought her face to mine, kissing her softly. She moved along with me, melting into my arms. It was like we'd never argued at all. She pulled away, breathing heavily and smirking at me.

"Well, hello there." She whispered, touching my face. I smiled, and began to kiss her again, this time harder. She began to giggle and push my face away. I placed my hand over hers.

_I'm not finished kissing you, Angel. I've gone without your lovely lips for long enough, _I told her. She threw her head back in a silent laugh, and began to kiss me again. We sat that way, happy with each other, for a few minutes before she finally pushed me away for real.

"I'm…_Good God,_ Nora! I'm so happy to see you. I have to tell you—"

She placed her hand over my mouth. "Let me go first. I have something really important to tell you."

I nodded, taking her hand and kissing it. I was already burning with desire for her, but I knew it wasn't the time or place.

"Ella had a message for you." _Ella? _"She wanted you to know that what happened to her, it's not your fault that you weren't there. She wants you to be happy, and to know that she hasn't been and never will be upset with you."

I softened at her words. Little Ella; even now she was looking out for me.

"That makes me feel…"Joyous. Blessed. "…amazing, Angel. I wish I could have seen Ella, too. It's nice to know that she's still there."

Nora nodded, grasping my hand. She looked at me, and I saw a hint of fear in her eyes.

"Patch…I am _so sorry. _I had no reason to not trust you. I was just so angry, and I know that I do stupid things when I get mad. I shouldn't have been so pushy. You've done _so much_ for me, so many things that I already can't repay, and I just return it by thinking you're hiding things. I mean, I can't even remember why I was mad at you! What happened to me, all of it is my fault, and I deserved every second of it. I needed to understand just what happens when I get into trouble that could have been avoided. You were hurt, and so were the people you care about. It was _stupid_, and _I_ was stupid! I should never have let anything break my faith in you. I shouldn't have snuck into your memories. I know there are frightening things there, but you have the right to tell me when you want to. I…I want what we had back, and even though you must have been really pissed at me, I want to work it out, honestly!"

I held her face, taking in her words.

"Nora, you _didn't_ deserve any of what happened. As for what happened to me, I'd go through it thousands of times. I'd go to Hell and back as many times as I needed to, to make you happy. Don't ever stop thinking that. You were upset with me because I wouldn't tell you why I was upset. The argument _was _pointless, because when you were worried about me I should have consoled you. I should have told you what you wanted to know, and trusted that you'd at least try to understand. You wouldn't have felt the need to sneak around if you weren't afraid of my reaction. I'm sorry that you were afraid of me, I don't want you to be. As for what we had, it never went anywhere, Angel. It never will, and I don't ever want you to think it will go anywhere. It's here, and it's _forever." _I smirked lightly, my expression burning. "You're stuck with me, Angel. And by the way, I love it when you have a temper. It's so _sexy._"

Nora began to tear up, and she smiled widely as they fell down her face. I held my arms out as she fell into them, grasping me. I held her tightly, controlling my own emotions, placing my head in her hair. I'd been terrified that I'd never be able to hold her like this again.

"_Babe!" _

We both turned at Vee's exclamation. She was sitting up in the bed, and her face was lit up. Nora turned in my arms and reached out for her. Vee had to meet her halfway, because I still had my arms around her waist.

"How do you feel? Do you need anything?" Vee asked her. Nora wiped her face, and took on a serene face. She grabbed Vee's hand.

"Scott says hello, Vee. He's happy up there."

Vee's eyes filled with tears, and she smiled. She wiped them away.

"Well…that's wonderful…I'm so glad…still! What do you need?"

"I'm kind of thirsty." She leaned back into my arms. "I didn't want to wake you both, so I couldn't reach the pitcher."

Vee quickly reached for the pitcher, filling a glass with water. I turned at stirring; Ezra was stretching from the couch. He looked at us, and smiled.

"Well, Nora Grey. I must say, you _are indeed _worth the trouble of thousands of beautiful faces." He said.

Nora blushed and giggled. "You don't look too bad yourself. You must be Ezra." She said, holding out her hand. He stood, walked over and kissed it.

"Yeah, _okay_ asshole. Away from my lady before I take that charming tongue of yours, Ezra." I teased, pushing him away. He laughed, and sat back down, stretching over the couch.

"Worried, Patch?" he teased back. "Don't; as beautiful as I am, I have morals."

I heard a deep laugh, and Nehemiah was chortling at Ezra's comment.

"What?" Ezra asked.

"Not a damn thing, Narcissus." He responded. He smiled at me, seeing that I was holding Nora. He knew we'd made up.

I was so happy. I'd never been so relieved in my life. I was surrounded by friends, and my Angel loved me. But my high began to die down as I faced the false wall. There was only one stain left on my perfection, and he needed to die. Soon. I turned to tell Nora about what happened while she was unconscious, but she wasn't facing me.

She and Vee were having a silent conversation, and Vee's face looked dark. Nora nodded softly, and Vee's eyes widened. Then, her face twisted into a vindictive curl, and she nodded.

"Best friends forever, right? I have you." She said, cupping Nora's hand. Nora inhaled, and turned to me.

"Where's Elliot, Patch?"

My expression darkened. "He's in the cell." I gestured with my head towards the wall. She began to stand, wobbling, and I held her as she almost fell. She softly moved my arms, and stood straight. Vee walked out of the room with the pitcher. Nora looked down at me.

"I'll handle him."

My eyes thinned. I didn't want that bastard anywhere near my newly healed Angel.

"Angel—you just woke up. Maybe you should—"

She turned to me with a cold look, but I knew it wasn't for me.

"He's _mine." _She softened her tone. "I love you, and I need you to trust me. Trust, remember? I'd like it if you'd wait in the room with Ezra and Nehemiah." I turned to face my friends. Ezra looked bemused, and Nehemiah looked unsure. I turned back to her.

Trust. I nodded, sitting down. Vee returned to the room with an opaque pitcher, full of water.

"You ready?" she asked Nora. Nora took a deep breath, and shook out her legs.

"I'm ready."

She opened up the wall, and they both walked in. She left a bit of the wall open, so we could hear them. Like children, Ezra and Nehemiah quickly sat on the floor near the wall, and we all leaned in to listen.

* * *

><p><strong>Nora's POV<strong>

I smacked Elliot awake. His body had been chained to the wall, and it was clear that Patch had had his way with him. He was covered in bruises. A part of me warmed as I realized that Patch had saved him for me instead of taking him out own his own. I let that thought go, as I had to be hard for what I was going to do. I had to be my father's daughter. _Hank Millar's _daughter.

He smiled an ugly smile, and I noticed he was missing some teeth.

"Well, look who's kicking. How'd you like my little mixture? Here to torture me some more?" he lisped. The sound of his voice made me shiver. I approached him and lifted his chin. He glared at me hatefully.

"This is day two. You'd never make eleven weeks. Amateur." I said coldly, throwing his face. I gave him a poker face, drawn from lots of practice of Patch's.

"You need to pay for what you've done, Elliot. More than just to me, but all of those poor girls, and murdered people. You're a snake, Elliot, and you need to be eliminated. You tried to take it all from me. My reason for living, you used your whims to separate us. I'm ashamed for taking your bait."

Elliot began to laugh. When my face twitched, he spat on my feet. I quickly backhanded him in reaction. When I saw his face, I could tell that he was growing nervous. He was trying to hide it behind his arrogance, but he knew his time was growing short.

"The reality is, Nora Grey, you don't have it in you to kill me. Your serial killer boyfriend in there, he does. But you? No." he taunted, trying to egg me on. Vee laughed softly, standing in the background, and he twitched at the sound.

"You know, I've killed a man in here." I said softly, smirking. "In fact, I've killed three immortals. More than Patch. Humans? Easy. Nephilim? Not so much. So, my credentials when it comes to dealing with _you _are pretty damn impressive."

Elliot swallowed, the fear flickering on his face. "So not only are you a sneak, but a murderer as well. Oh how far you have fallen, Nora. You used to be so well behaved, so cute, so _fucking annoying. _I never saw what anyone saw in you, besides a pretty face and a cute ass. But that wasn't any of my business. What matters now is you. How would dear old dad feel, knowing that his daughter is among those who disposed of him?"

The hate rose like sickness up my throat, and I almost lost my control. I exhaled sharply, and gestured for Vee to throw the pitcher at Elliot. He shrieked as it hit him.

"Vee? Go get some more." I asked her. She quickly left. We sat there in silence, glaring at one another until she returned. She walked in, smirking.

_You have a bit of an audience out there. _She opened the wall enough for me to see all three angels facing me, wary. None of them had the decency to look shocked. Patch stared at me, worried. I ignored them.

I gestured again for her to throw the pitcher. Elliot began coughing, but he still glared at me.

I backed up towards the entrance, and Vee handed me something. Elliot laughed at me; a hard cackle.

"You call that torture? How soft could you get?" he shouted. I ignored his question, and took on a cold look. Patch began to smell the air around us.

_Nora, did you just throw—_

"Well, Elliot. When it comes to _dear old dad, _I'd ask him, but I sent him to Hell. You can have a long chat with him when you get there."

Elliot eyes widened as I quickly lit a match, and before anyone could react I threw it at his collar. It ignited quickly, and he began to scream as his face and neck caught flame. It was a horrible sound, and I couldn't maintain my cold stance anymore.

I turned away, and Vee slammed the wall shut on Elliot's suffering.

**Read and review! Forgive my lateness! This is going to be a pretty busy month for me. **


	37. Chapter 36

**Notes:**

**So guys, we're getting close to the end :'( I'm thinking two or three more chapters. I've really been enjoying this one too. I have some more ideas for other stories too. One of them is _Brightly Woven, _by Alexandra Bracken. I hate that she didn't write more, so I think I'll do more. It's not a fanfiction section on this website though. It's a lovely story. Of course I'll do more _Hush, Hush! _**

**So, I work in a chemistry lab as one of my classes, and last week we were working with chemicals, one of which was Potassium ferrocyanide, and I was just like "dude, even the lab says this could kill us...why give it to freshmen to work with?" I also thought of this story and was like "Boss." **

Chapter Thirty-Six

**Patch's POV**

Nora hid her face behind her hair, running her fingers through it. We could all only vaguely hear Elliot's last moments, and everyone was too shocked to move. I sat on the bed, still trying to comprehend what I'd seen.

_Dude…_ Ezra mindspoke, gaping. _Did you see that shit coming? Nehemiah? _

Nehemiah just stared wide eyed at me. Apparently he hadn't either, seer that he was. I turned to face Nora again, and this time she looked back at me. She smiled slightly, but her eyes were wide with…fear? Apprehension? I sighed, running my hand over my face, and rubbing my chin, and grinned at her. Her entire body relaxed, but only a little.

"Well… I must say, I'm torn between horror and pride." To be honest, I was a little turned on by her wild appearance, but it wasn't the place to say it. "You've been around me too long, Angel."

Her eyes filled with anguished tears and she flinched, thinking I was pushing her away. When I held my arms open, she gasped and realized that I was teasing. Tottering slowly and nervously, she walked into my arms, and placed her arms on my shoulders. I hugged her around her stomach.

"I…I wanted to… you know… avenge everyone here." She murmured, slightly embarrassed. "He hurt all of you, and I didn't want him to get away with it."

Ezra and Nehemiah were still silent, but Vee decided to speak up.

"Please. Don't stare. Let's be real; are we going to call the kettle black when the pot, a.k.a. _Patch, _is sitting in the room? Mr. Dark Secrets up the ass?" she said, shrugging her shoulders. "In comparison to the stuff I read, Nora's still in the good zone. If not pretty bad ass, I'd think."

Nora smiled at Vee, thankful for the support, and I could feel in her body how anxious she actually was made by what she'd done. I looked up at her.

_Nora…why didn't you let me deal with Elliot? Why did you feel the need to do it on your own? _I knew Nora, and I knew she'd want to be independent, but this time something was , Vee had a point, and I didn't want Nora to have to deal with the guilt that came along with…delivering death. She looked at me, somewhat sheepish.

_I…I read what happened. You know…with you… and the fire… I felt like…like if I did something like what you did, maybe you wouldn't feel so alone. So bad. I'd really been thinking about it too…it was so hard... If he hadn't hurt you all, and all those other people, I don't think I could have done it. It was so hard for me to be…I don't want to feel bad, but… I tried to be like…_

Her eyes fell at this point, and her face crumpled, and I realized how much Elliot's execution was weighing on her. I shook my head, and caressed her face, creating a small bubble around us.

"Oh, Angel. You didn't have to do that for me. I don't want you to ever have to think you need to stoop to my level." She moved to interrupt me, but I stopped her. "Yes, it is _stooping_ to my level. I've done some horrible things, and you know how much I'm not proud of them. You know some of what I've done. Don't ever think you have to join me in them, to make me feel better. I appreciate you trying, honestly, and I love that you want to help. But you're better than that. Better than me. I don't want you to ever have the regrets I do."

Her tears began to fall, and I wiped them away.

"I love you," I said, kissing her hands. "From now on, we'll handle situations _together_, okay? Maybe you can leave the extreme stuff to me?" Nodding, she began hugging me fiercely.

"_Okay!" _

"You both are so cute!" Vee squealed. "Come on Nora, we have to get you cleaned up so we can go out. Maybe we'll have some donuts. Steak too. Or anything really; I'm just damned famished!"

Nehemiah stared at Vee. "I don't know if I should be afraid that you're so nonchalant."

"We've been through a lot." Nora said, defending her.

"Shit, I see," Ezra said, chuckling nervously. Nehemiah turned to Nora.

"Nora, I do believe that punishment of yours was a bit harsh." He stated. She tensed, and I glared at Nehemiah.

"Fuck Elliot. Bastard deserves to burn. She just gave him an early taste of Hell." Anyone who touched Nora deserved to burn. I would just prefer it to be me punishing them. I stood up, holding Nora protectively. "So, food. Nora? Would you like to go shower and put on something nice? I'll buy you anything you want."

_I do want to talk more tonight, _she told me. I nodded; I knew we both craved privacy.

Ezra was still laughing off his shock. "I knew _you _were crazy," he said, pointing to me. "But _damn. _Are you all really this desensitized?"

Nora, Vee and I simply stared at him. I _knew_ I was. He shrugged.

"Well, I mean… well, shit…it happened now. I'll bite. Food, right? Why the hell not?" And in quick, Ezra fashion, he would let it go.

Nehemiah was still sensitive. "This used to be my field, guys. Death still gets to me. An angel of death can't come receive Elliot's soul here. I know he's done wrong, but he deserves judgment. We can at least take his body outside of Delphic. Please."

I nodded. "That's fair. I don't want his body next to my bedroom anyway." Nora gasped, and brought her hand to her mouth. When I turned to her with concern, she shook her head.

"Just… do it when I'm not around. And clean up well after you're finished."

I kissed her forehead, helping her loosen. "Okay, Angel." I let her go, and she went with Vee to clean up.

I turned to my friends with a grin on my face. Ezra snickered, and Nehemiah's eyes thinned.

"You love this," he accused.

"She's kind of sexy when she's being tough." I said, shrugging.

"Dude. You are totally encouraging this."

"I do not. I'd rather her never be in harm's way. But still. So sexy." I teased.

Nehemiah began to laugh despite himself. "Y'all crazy, you know? Support her later; she may have nightmares. Those not too acquainted with death tend to, and she's more sensitive than she's trying to let on."

My face became serious. "I understand."

Nora walked back in, looking lovely in a green halter top and some jeans. Only her eyes reflected her nerves.

"Are we ready to go?" she asked, putting some light into her voice.

"That steak is calling," Vee added, threading her arm through Nora's. Nehemiah stood, and one by one they exited. I stayed behind, debating when I'd move Elliot's body. Nora came back and leaned in the doorway.

_Are you honestly okay with me? Are Nehemiah and Ezra? I noticed they weren't too…accepting as you._

She looked genuinely worried, and I waved my hand.

_Nehemiah saw me the night I killed Katharine. What you've done is nothing on it. He's seen much worse. They have no problem with you, they just didn't expect for you to react so harshly. Silly, really, especially because you're my girl. _

She smiled, holding out her arms, and I sauntered towards her slowly.

_So, you have better credentials than me? Three immortals? Should I be worried I'll be the fourth?_

Nora rolled her eyes, blushing. _I was trying to be intimidating. I think he was...well…_

_Nehemiah is worried you'll have nightmares. Know that I'll be here for you. I think, however, that you won't get much sleep. In fact, there'll be plenty of your screaming, and they won't be from fear. _

At this point my arms were on either side of her face, trapping her to the doorjamb, and I was grinning like a lustful Cheshire cat. Nora giggled and smacked my chest.

_How tempting, _she said, winding her hair around her finger and biting her lip. _We'll see about that. _

"We will, won't we?" I whispered, bringing her lips to mine.

"_Hey, lovebirds! _I'm starving here!" Vee shouted. We turned, and Vee stood in the hallway with hands on hips. Ezra and Nehemiah leaned on the wall on both sides of her, laughing at me. I smiled back, and Nora pushed me away. I grabbed her hand, and we left together.

* * *

><p>I lifted Elliot's body onto the back of my truck. It was moments like this where I was glad I had more than one car, because he'd destroyed my other with bullets. I'd probably get a new one after this. His badly charred body smelled awful, and what was left of his fluids were leaking onto my shirt and in the back of the truck bed. I'd have to throw this shirt out with his body. Nora was staying with Vee until I could dispose of him, because I knew she wouldn't be able to deal with it. It'd been different with Hank's body because he'd been fully intact besides a bullet wound. Burns were a different ball game. When we'd finally entered the chamber to inspect his body, his face and neck area had almost been burned to ashes, and what was visible of it was contorted in pain. His arms and legs where the chains had been had singed his skin, and his clothing had caught fire and burned the rest of him. A terrible way to go, but I couldn't judge. Nehemiah had calmly wrapped the body in a sheet, and we'd carried him out.<p>

When we arrived at the cliffs, I couldn't help but feel the irony.

"Will the sharks eat him if he's wrapped up?" I asked Nehemiah. He rolled his eyes. Ezra dragged the body out, but I suddenly had an inspiration.

"Wait! I've got a better idea!" I cried. Nehemiah looked at me.

"Will the angel of death come get his soul soon?" I asked. His eyes went misty for a moment, and he nodded.

"What are you thinking, Patch?" I grinned evilly, and it made Nehemiah shiver.

"Just let the angel get him, then we're going somewhere else. Ezra, put him back."

Ezra rolled his eyes. "Damn it, man. This is a nice shirt, and now I have…dead body fluids on me."

We all turned our backs, for the angel to come through quickly. Soon, Nehemiah shook his head, and I knew that the angel had come and gone. I got into the truck, and started it.

After a half an hour, I pulled up to a dark and falling apart warehouse.

"Where are we?" Ezra asked.

"One of Chauncey's old and abandoned warehouses." I signaled for Ezra and Nehemiah to grab the body, and I scoped the warehouse. Empty.

When we got inside, I opened one of the old barrels and watched as gas began to ooze from it.

"Put him in here."

Nehemiah peeked into the barrel. "This is acid, Patch."

"I'm aware." The irony was too much for me. His favorite method of murder was injecting others with acid.

Ezra dumped his body slowly, and we watched as his body dissolved in the hydrochloric acid.

Nehemiah turned away, hand over his mouth. "This is a bit much." _No wonder you weren't shocked earlier. _

When Elliot's head sunk into the acid, Ezra placed the lid over the barrel.

"Remind me never to fuck with you." He said, only quietly teasing.

Looking around to make sure we weren't being spotted, I quickly pulled up the truck and we left.

**Ha sorry, I love putting my chem knowledge in this story. They forget how crazy Patch can be, especially about Nora! Okay! Read and review! Much love and appreciation! **


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